


These Desperate Games We Play

by Ebb_tide



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Desperation Play, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Omorashi, POV First Person, Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 48,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2085318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebb_tide/pseuds/Ebb_tide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts out as a desperation game turns into something much more. More mature than my usual fics. No need to know anything about the Homestuck fandom, it's just a story of two guys getting really, really desperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dilema

**John POV**

I sigh, realizing I’m in trouble. I’m in a lot of trouble. I’m in more trouble than I’ve ever been in, but I can’t show any signs of danger. I can’t let Dave know that anything’s wrong. I have to play it cool.

No matter what… play it cool.

I glance at my buddy Dave. His hands are casually gripping the steering wheel. One at ten, one at two. It’s odd to see Dave following traffic laws to this degree. Dave’s the definition of rule breaker. If you look up rule breaker in the dictionary you’ll see his face. It’s true.

Two months ago Dave Strider hacked into the mainframe at Webster’s website and linked his name and picture as the definition of ruler breaker. He told me that every day he types that search in the computer and when he sees that it hasn’t been taken down yet, he savors his victory just a little more. It’s not that no one’s noticed his computer crime, it’s just that his hack work is a little too complicated for the good people at Webster to crack. I’m waiting for the day that the FBI gets called in and feds start knocking on his door. Dave told me he has a plan for that too: Deny it all and blame a nameless scapegoat. 

I watch the road reflecting through my best friend’s sunglasses, but as usual, the dark shades keep me from seeing his eyes. Even from the sides, Dave’s shades block any window to his thoughts. I don’t have that luxury. Even though I have lenses over my eyes as well, they’re clear prescription glasses. Mental note to self: Get tinted lenses.

I reach over to the cup holder and put the cold bottle of apple juice against my lips. Geez this bottle is cold. I take a small sip and lower the bottle slightly. “Hey Dave, let’s take a bio break.”

There it was; the words that I had been holding in for the last hour along with the gallon of pee in my bladder. My need to pee has been registering at an insane level for some time now, but I spent that time strategizing the best way to vocalize said need.

To any other person that’s riding with a friend, a filling bladder should be followed with an admission of bladder fullness and permission to empty that full bladder. For me, life isn’t that easy. I know that if my control happy friend found out I’m dying to take a piss, he will torture me relentlessly. Not to mention that Dave had already mandated that he wasn’t going to make any stops till we reached our destination.

My plan rode on the fact that I asked casually and Dave might have wanted to stretch his legs. I had made sure that I had hid any trace of desperation in my voice. My unwavering tone had been as calm and smooth as a summer day. Just like this freakin hot summer day with its sweltering heat that drove me to down four freakin bottles of apple juice.

Dave offers a soft hum as the response to my carefully analyzed, perfectly preplanned proclamation. I can’t help the soft whine that comes out of my mouth. I recover quickly by putting the apple juice bottle to my mouth to stifle it, hoping that Dave didn’t hear.

Unfortunately Dave did. I see out of the corner of my eye that my friend has turned his head away from the road and is facing me. I try to recreate the whine (it isn’t too hard considering I’m bursting to piss) as I take another sip of juice. I’m hoping the noise sounds more like a satisfied ‘mmm yummy’ instead of an ‘I’ve got a painfully distended tummy.’

I can see from my peripheral vision that Dave’s facing the road again. The handle of my glasses blocks my side vision slightly, but I’m still positive Dave is looking away.

I force myself to take a deep breath and suggest the stop again. “Wanna take a bio break?”

I bite my lip at this crucial mistake. Crap. The first time I mentioned the more than urgent toilet stop, I phrased the sentence as a suggestion. This time however, I stupidly phrased it as a question. More importantly a question that Dave could say no to. Saying “I have to pee” doesn’t really give the option for a no response, but “can you stop so I can pee?” does.

Dave sighs. “We’re on a schedule. No stops. Here’s a thought: Lay off the apple juice and you won’t have to pee so badly.”

I feel an answer spill out, but it happens too quickly and my voice cracks. “I don’t have to pee that badly.”

My fractured words hang in the air as our chess game nears checkmate. The only problem is that Dave’s the one that’s closing in as the victor instead of me.

I still hold out false hope that Dave doesn’t know I have to go. Technically I have no hope that Dave’s oblivious to my need to pee at this point, but I’m just delusionally hopeful that Dave doesn’t know how badly I have to go.

As the minutes tick by I can’t help but tap my feet against the floor. My bladder is way too full to sit still at this point. I quickly turn to the radio for relief. With the music going, I can pass off my movements as tapping my feet to the rhythm. Unfortunately the radio only offers options of rhythmless songs that Dave would never believe I would classify as a toe-tapping good time. It doesn’t help that Dave had cleaned the car out yesterday and forgot to return his IPod to the glove compartment.

I dejectedly turn off the station and close my eyes, leaning against the headrest. I take a deep breath in. The breath causes my stomach to expand, along with my abdomen, and it feels like I have just a little more room to accommodate my bladder. Sadly when I exhale, the illusion ends.

Dave’s voice is so unexpected that it scares me. “You dying to take a leak?”

I answer too quickly again as my voice squeaks. “Me? Nah.”

The fear that envelopes me causes my throat to dry out completely. I swallow, feeling the Sahara dryness in my esophagus, and reach for my juice bottle. I weigh the ‘rock and a hard place decision’ and hope my bladder will be able to squeeze in just a little more liquid.

I assume that if this is the last bit of liquid I ingest, then the urge to go won’t get worse. I’ll only have to hold back what I already have sitting in my bladder. Unfortunately I hadn’t been at all scientifically inclined in High school, so it’s entirely possible that I’m assuming wrong.

Dave sighs. “Did you hear me when I said lay off the apple juice?”

Dave’s voice had adopted a slightly higher pitch and I turn to look at the driver quizzically. There’s no trace of emotion on Dave’s face, but I notice a visible tell in his body language. He’s gripping the steering wheel a little more tightly than he needs to with one hand. The other hand is behind his neck in a fist.

I study Dave as he loosens his grip on the steering wheel, just a tad, and taps his thumb against the leather ring.

Attention Planet Earth: Stop rotating. Dave has to pee. Dave freaking Strider has to pee. The game isn’t near checkmate at all. A whole new game has started. Dave needs to freakin pee. And if I can pick up on it, that means he’s bursting!


	2. Reversal of Fortunes

**Dave POV**

I take my hand off of the wheel to adjust my sunglasses. These shades are always balanced perfectly on the bridge of my nose, but right now I just need something to do with my hands. I’m honestly two seconds away from grabbing my crotch to hold back the torrent that’s threatening to blast its way out of me.

Step 1: Neurotically adjust shades. Step 2: Crack knuckles. Step 3: Flood the car with the urine that I forgot to deposit in the toilet after I woke up. Screw you IPhone. Why don’t you have a ‘don’t forget to pee’ app? Oh that’s right, because even a pathetic troll can feel his bladder’s bursting and takes care of it without a chirpy song to remind him.

I lean back a little in my seat and I feel my bladder start to ache. 

Well, it’s official. This is the worst road trip of my life.

There was the road trip that started with John puking his guts all over the floor and the smell of vomit filled the air for seven hours.

Right now is worse than that trip.

There was the trip with the tacos. At the start of the ‘Taco Bell trip’ I ordered enough food from the taco joint that I didn’t get change from my fifty dollar bill. That was seriously an epic order. I knew it was epic even before the woman handed me the order of food in a freakin shopping bag. When John and I finished our Taco Bell fiesta we had consumed more beans than two human beings should ever attempt in one meal. The heavy rain caused a major accident and we got stuck in traffic, turning a two hour drive into a four hour vehicular nightmare. I have an iron stomach so nothing affects me, but John held back the excruciating gas in his bloated stomach for a valiant three hours. Since the rain was pouring outside, we had to sit in the car with the windows rolled up during John’s eventual toxic eruptions.

Right now is worse than that trip.

There was the trip that John forgot to put on his deodorant and he stank to high heavens.

Right now is worse than that trip.

I keep my head facing the road, but let my eyes swing over to look at my passenger. Poor fool. He probably thinks he’s being inconspicuous, but all of Squirmy’s efforts are completely transparent.

I watch as John’s subconscious rocking back and forth in his seat is joined by his rapid foot tapping. I clench my jaw, trying to not let John’s nervous twitches affect my growing need for a toilet. 

I have the upper hand. I’m the driver so at any point I can release both of us from the agony of our full bladders and head to a rest station. My finger twitches, tempting me to turn the wheel and merge into the right lane.

My bladder almost celebrates the opportunity to be one step closer to a rest stop. One step closer to relief. But I can’t do it yet.

John admitted he had to go, but he still hasn’t said that he’s bursting. I have to force myself to wait until John confesses. Any other day I would pair that confession with a few miles more of an agonizing wait, but I have to go too urgently for that. The plan is this: confession first, then roll into a gas station at lightning speed.

John groans as he crosses his legs. His thighs are pressing so tightly together that I can see them actually trembling under the strain. John clasps his hands under his legs and leans forward, letting out another moan.

John grunts. “I-I need to pee.”

I smile wickedly. “I know. You told me you had to go before. Tell you what; I’ll let you pee first when we get to the hotel.”

John bites his lip. “You have to go too?”

I mentally kick myself. Idiot. Now John knows. Huge mistake.

John straightens up a bit. “If we’re only an hour or two away I can hold it.”

We both know that’s a bluff, but just the thought is enough to make me shiver. As the shiver shudders through my normally infallible body, a grunt of pain slips out. The grunt is followed by a crushing urge that is so bad that I have no choice but to grip myself tightly to hold it back. I had tried not to, but pride gave way to necessity.

I glance over at John and he’s grabbing himself as well. I know we’re feeling the same thing at this moment. We’re savoring the joy of finally allowing our hands to help stave off the swelling urge after so many hours of wanting to.

He smiles. “Gotta take a wee wee dude? You look pretty desperate there.”

I know that the parts of me that aren’t blocked by the shades are turning bright shades of red. I rarely blush in front of my friend, but like many of my other bodily functions, I’m having trouble controlling this one was well.

I can feel my hand shaking between my legs as I merge sharply into the right lane. I don’t even care if we we’re close to a gas station. I’m too desperate to contemplate any other option than the side of the road.

I was the winner of our games 99% of the time, but when I did lose, I was never a sore loser. The unspoken rule of the power struggle games we play is that the loser confesses. The loser always has to confess.

I quickly shut the car off and turn to John. He’s squirming wildly in his seat, but his eyes are still locked on me. I know that John’s waiting for my confession. Waiting for checkmate.

I feel my eyes tearing up with strain and embarrassment. With my virtual mask removed and my facade shattered, I realize just how badly I truly have to go.

I grit my teeth and take off my shades. Since my metaphorical mask is long gone, why not remove the physical one too?

I keep my eyes on John. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the light as I squint to focus on the partner of my desperation duet. I watch John dance in his seat as we make eye contact for the first time sans the shades apart from when we’re intimate. Only when we’re that close, that alone, that we both allow ourselves to be open and vulnerable.

I open my mouth to speak, to concede victory, but John beats me too it.

John groans. “Dave I gotta pee so freakin’ bad. I’m really about to piss myself right now!”

For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss for words. John’s confession wasn’t lost on me. He said he had to pee so I wouldn’t have to. I put my shades back on to cover up the tears that are building in my eyes. The tears aren’t from the ocean churning in my lower abdomen; the tears are from the fact that my best mate just sacrificed his king, giving me the win.

Now that the game is over I nod, admitting my need as well. “Yeah, I’m about to burst too.”

We both stumble out of the car. We stand by the passenger’s side of the car so that we’ll be shielded from the eyes of oncoming traffic, but it doesn’t matter, there are hardly any cars on the road anyway.

I yank the zipper of my jean down so forcefully that I almost detach it from the crotch. I use one hand to aim and lean the other hand against the car for leverage. Releasing a bladder this full is going to cause more recoil than a rifle.

I close my eyes and stop holding back the inevitable. Standing over the roadside foliage, I finally answer the call of nature. I have about 200 missed calls from Mother Nature already. They all go a little something like this “PEE NOW!!”

As badly as I have to go, I’m surprised that the start of my relief is a weak, dismal stream. It almost feels like the pressure of a full bladder is still pulsing through my body even though I’m slowly letting go.

Seconds later, and after a whimpering moan, my stream explodes into a powerful jet of relief. My bladder muscles have finally gotten the message to fully relax and the pee starts gushing out in full force.

I close my eyes tighter as the superhuman stream unbelievably increases in intensity. My body’s tension completely drains away as my bladder drains along with it. I can feel every drop of coffee, water, and apple juice I had since last night escape my body contributing to the never ending stream.

Eventually the never ending stream comes to an end, but not before I bask in the euphoria that consumes me as my bladder gradually contracts. My stomach deflates from the pregnant size that it had expanded to, as what felt like nine months of pent up urine spills out of me.

When all is said and done, I slump next to the car and let out a satisfied, yet exhausted sigh. I push lightly on my bladder making sure it all had peed out. We still have a four hour drive ahead of us and I know that if I don’t fully empty my bladder, the hypersensitive nerves will make me feel desperate again even if I just have a little urine built up in there. I learned this fact from all the times I made John hold a full bladder. John always reached desperation again approximately 30 minutes after a massive pee.

I secretly dubbed this the ‘pee aftershock’. Since this occurred after John had let his defenses down and wasn’t too shy to admit to a bursting bladder, the ‘pee after shock’ involved so much squirming and complaining and moaning that I couldn’t prolong the wait for too long without feeling like a horrible friend.

My thoughts return to the present. No time had the present felt like a present as much as it did right now. The insane amount of pleasure that my long awaited pee brought is a gift better than my favorite birthday present. Sorry limited addition Hugo Boss sunglasses, you’ve been replaced.

I feel as relaxed as I’ve ever felt, but for some reason there’s a slight feeling of tension in the air. I look over at my former partner in desperation, and realize instantly where the tension is coming from.

John has his hands in fists at his sides, pants pulled down, and is hopping from foot to foot like a five year old that has to pee. I had been in such a trance when I peed that I had slipped into a little world of my own. My ears had been temporarily deafened by my focused concentration. Now that the pee is over, my ears have opened up and I can hear John’s sharp whines and desperate moans loud and clear.

It’s obvious that John still had a gallon of urine still inside of him, but I have absolutely no idea why.

I put a hand on his back and a frightening though enters my mind. “John, what the heck? You’re not waiting for permission from me to pee are you?”

John switches from hopping to marching in place. “Ugh, I gotta go so bad! I seriously feel like I’m going to die.”

I nod, still not understanding. “Um ok. So just go.”

John balances one foot on top of the other as he swings his hips from side to side. “I can’t.”

I nod. “Yes you can.”

John shakes his head looking helpless. “You don’t understand. I physically can’t go. And I’m ready to explode!”

 

 


	3. Checkmate

**John POV**

This is beyond any embarrassment I’ve ever achieved. And believe me; I’ve got quite the highlight reel for that. The unmatched pressure in my bladder continues in punishing waves.

I start to grunt. “I gotta go. I gotta go. I gotta go!”

My chanting is reminiscent of a four year old and my dancing is the same. I know something horrible is keeping the pee pent up inside of me, but feeling like I’m on the verge of peeing myself makes me irrationally use methods to holding it in.

I try not to hold my crotch. If my stream magically wants to start, I don’t want to thwart the efforts by holding it back.

I keep my moves to awkward leg lunges and marching in place. When the pressure gets to be too much I put my hand over my swollen stomach, just to move the ball of urine sitting there into a more comfortable position.

For some reason Dave is just staring at me. I find a little comfort in that. At least he’s not making fun of me.

Finally Dave speaks. “Just go John.”

I shake my head balancing one foot on the other again. “Can’t.”

Dave sighs impatiently. “Well get back in the car then. We’ve got a long drive and if you’re not going to piss, we should get going.”

A cold sweat instantly comes over my body transforming my red hot blush of embarrassment into a frigid chill of cold hard fear. Is he really expecting me to hold it for four hours?! What if the urine stays in for another three hours and then automatically shoots out, drenching the whole front seat? I’ve heard somewhere that the human body automatically voids after a prolonged amount of holding so the bladder is saved from literally exploding.

My body starts to involuntarily shake and the tears start to pour out of me. I start crying harder as jealousy sets in. Why can’t this flood of unwanted tears be a flood of urine instead?

I’ve never sobbed in front of a human being before, but today is a day of many firsts for me. My words sputter out of my mouth in broken gasps. “Please, no – I have to – Dave I -.” I try to start again. Dave won’t grant any of my requests if he can’t understand them.

The words slide out along with my tears. “Dave something is seriously wrong. I... I don’t want to play the game anymore. Truce. Safeword. Whatever, just please. I need my boyfriend. P-please I -.”

My pleas are suddenly replaced by Dave’s strong arms around me. My body is still shaking, but I can’t tell if it’s me or him. I settle on that it’s a combination of us both. I feel his hand on my stomach and I wince at the contact.

Dave coos into my ear. “Tell me where it hurts.”

I try to speak but for now the sobbing has turned into jarring hiccups as I try to pass air through my lungs. I groan as the pain of hiccups rumbling through my body repeatedly causes my bladder to twitch relentlessly.

Dave rubs my distended abdomen and I try as hard as I can to relax into the sensation. He has me cradled against him and he starts to kiss me with a purpose. I try to enjoy the affection, but I just have to go so badly. I have to go so, so, very badly.

I hear my own voice saying the words against Dave’s lips. “I have to go so badly.” As the words spill out with no effort on my part, I start to cry harder. How come the ocean inside of me is the only thing that won’t automatically spill out?

I moan loudly as Dave presses against the angry ball inside of me. Dave’s words are commanding as he kisses me harder and presses down harder. “Just relax.”    

I whimper against his lips as he presses harder. More pressure against my lips. More pressure against my bladder. I can’t – I can’t. More pressure. More pressure. And finally…

Release. Sweet, beautiful, blissful, and any other joyous word in the English language, release!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first part of my fiction. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think! :D


	4. Game Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is really short. This part is more focused on character development than omorashi (don't worry though there's still peeing in it lol). The next chapter is back to full on omorashi mode. I'll upload the next chapter tomorrow. Hope you guys like it. Thanks for reading :D

**Dave POV**

That had to be the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do. To sit there and watch my boyf- my best friend struggle like that. I don’t even have words to describe it. Maybe when I get to the hotel I can look it up at Websters.com.

I glance over at John. His eyes are closed, but I know he’s not asleep. His hand is resting on his bladder as his torso rises and falls. I’m pretty sure his bladder is world-class sore.

I smirk at my sleeping beauty. “If you wanted me to pull over so you could pee you should have just asked.”

John confirmed my suspicions about not being asleep by offering a smirk back, and flipping me off.

I look back at the road. It’s his turn to drive, but there’s no way I’m going to let him. He’s been through enough.

I hear John shifting in his seat. I watch him reach for one of the empty apple juice bottles I had given him. His bladder has been through too much trauma to stress it anymore. I instructed him to pee when he felt the slightest urge. This was a little clumsy when John fell asleep earlier and woke up a little desperate to go. John’s the unluckiest man on the planet because we were stuck in traffic at that moment, trapped in the far left lane, with no option to pull over.

John had tried to play it off like it was no big deal, but when I saw his legs bouncing I had to come up with a new plan. New plan was: Use the empty bottle. John protested, but just like every other time about every other thing, he did what I said.

A car horn brings me back to reality and I use John’s one finger salute on the guy, girl, old lady, gremlin, or whoever it was that had decided to lean on their horn.

John’s voice surprises me. “Maybe if you weren’t leering at your peeing boyfriend like a creeper you wouldn’t have veered out of your lane.”

I feel a tingle of excitement hearing him use the boyfriend word. I file this feeling away for when I can privately savor it. I paint on my blank stare. “Just making sure you don’t spill your apple juice on the interior.”

John laughs. “Apple juice, huh? So that’s what we’re calling it now?”

I feel a lump form in my throat. I have the option to clear my throat (that would show John that his comment got to me) or not clear my throat (that would cause a gravelly tone that would show John that his comment got to me). I chose option C: Say nothing.

John eventually breaks the silence. “So why do you think I, um… like, why did that happen?”

I use the guise of thinking, to clear my throat. “It’s cuz you saw me take off the shades. You were just like daayyyum and your whole body shut down.”

John laughs and then it’s replaced by the hiss of liquid filling a bottle and a strained grunt. I keep my eyes on the road as I hear splashes of liquid starting and stopping followed by moans of pleasure and pain.

I take a guess that it’s all over when I hear the sound of a cap being screwed back on the bottle.

John sniffs. “This is just so humiliating. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

I sigh with as much compassion as an exhale can have. “Everyone pees, J.”

There’s another sniff. “Not the peeing, it’s the crying. I can’t stop and I don’t want you to see me like this.”

This is followed by more sniffing.

I take a slow breath. I couldn’t solve his problems before, but I have a chance to make up for the lost opportunity. I slip off my shades. I don’t really need them now that dusk is approaching. To be honest I never really need them, I just wear them for the look. I mean seriously, of all the things waiting in line to kill me, UV ray damage is pretty far back in the line.

I blink, adjusting my eyes to the lighter version of the world, and pass my shades to John. “Here. Put these on. I don’t think any less of you when you cry, but you can wear these if they make you feel better.”

John starts crying a little harder, but soon wipes the tears away and puts on the sunglasses.

I try to lighten the mood. “You better not try and keep those. I’m expecting them back when we get to the hotel.”

John laughs. “You’ll get them back when I get back my Varsity letterman jacket I loaned you a year ago.”

I shake my head. “No can do. I put that baby up on eBay. I made up some story about how it belonged to my first love who was a beloved quarterback that died tragically. That thing sold for top dollar. Everyone loves a tragedy. Apparently they want to wear a dead man’s jacket too.”

John crosses his arms over his chest. “First of all, I wrote the plays for the team so that jacket never set foot on the football field. Second of all, I saw you snuggling the jacket two days ago.”

I narrowed my eyes. I feel so exposed without the shades. This is what I get for being a good guy.

I glance over at John and smirk. “Dave Strider doesn’t snuggle.”

John looked at me, hidden behind the shades. “That’s a shame. I’m going to be very cold tonight.”

I try to read his expression, but those shades block me for seeing it. Those shades.

Those darn shades.


	5. The Pawn's Quest for a Throne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took me longer to come up with a title for this than it did to write the whole chapter. The next one will just be called chapter 6 lol. Enjoy!

**John POV**

We finally pull into the hotel parking lot and stumble out of the car. I kindly return Dave’s sunglasses and open the back door to gather my backpack, hoisting it on my back. I stick the bottle filled with pee into the webbed pouch on the side, trying to keep it out of Dave’s line of vision. We’ve gotten closer since the disaster a few hours ago, but I don’t think we’re close enough that I could have Dave look at a bottle of my urine and not feel completely humiliated.

I said that I needed my boyfriend when I was begging Dave to help me during the peeing spectacle, but boyfriend and best friend sound alike, right? Ok, what about blaming it on a slip of the tongue? I actually used the boyfriend word again in the car, so accidental slip is not an option. I guess we’re going to have to talk about this soon, but I’m definitely not going to bring it up. I just don’t want to ruin the completely undefined awkward relationship we have going on already.

We both head to the trunk and take our rolling suitcases out, and head to the lobby. The walk isn’t bad, except for the fact that the strained muscles surrounding my bladder ache like I’ve done a thousand sit ups. That may be an exaggeration considering I’ve never done more than 10 sit-ups at a time.

As Dave charms the receptionist, I sit on one of those squishy lobby chairs and wonder if it would be better to take a shower or a bath. As I debate between bubble bath vs. loofa I feel little Jonny kick me from the inside. I know it’s weird to name your bladder, especially to name it a playful variation of your own name, but don’t judge me.

I close my eyes, knowing that I need a toilet soon. I begin to mourn the death of my dignity as I whimper softly in discomfort. I wonder if the 5 stages of grief could be applied to an about to expire bladder. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

I shift in the chair, trying to coax my bladder into a comfier position, and cross one leg over the other as I settle into the first stage: denial. I can do this. I have to do this. I have to hold for maybe 15 more minutes max? Piece of cake. I can hold it for another hour easily. I’ve got this. I don’t really have to go that much anyway.

I open my eyes when I hear Dave rolling over to me with his suitcase. Dave lifts an eyebrow. “You want to keep sleeping in the lobby or would you rather come with me to our room? Your choice. I’ll be just as comfy in the master bed, with or without you.”

I stand up slowly, trying not to spill my internal glass of water. Scratch that. After feeling the water sloshing inside of me, I’m sure my bladder is more of a fish bowl than a water glass.

I follow behind Dave and we stop in front of the elevator. I look up at the red lights that indicate what floor the elevator is currently on. I sigh when I see that it’s on floor 12 and not floor L like I desperately need it to be.

I watch the number start to decrease and I silently beg for it to descend quicker. I’m jarred out of my little world when I hear Dave whisper quietly. “It’s almost here. Just a little longer and then you can pee.”

I’m about to deny that I have to go, but then I see why my secret isn’t so secret. Staring back at me is my reflection in the metal elevator doors (those sinister doors that are still 10 floors away from opening). The vision of myself reflects in a humiliating fashion. Somehow I had absentmindedly crossed my legs in an obvious ‘gotta pee’ way, and if that wasn’t bad enough, my hand had found its way over my crotch.

I quickly uncross my legs, but my hands won’t seem to move. The firm grip stays between my legs with an almost magnetic attraction.

I sigh at this new level of embarrassment, but for the second time today Dave shows me his softer side. I watch as his reflection folds his arms across his chest. “It’s ok, you don’t have to deny it. The truce is still on.”

For some reason, in my own head, that gives me the green light to cross my legs around my hands. I let out a weak, “I have to go,” and sigh at how pathetic my juvenile reflection looks next to his.

Dave nods. “Don’t sweat it. I gotta take a leak too.”

I figure that his admission was meant to make me feel better, but just knowing that there was any kind of extra liquid within a ten mile radius, made me shiver with more desperation.

I turn away from the door so that it won’t reflect what I was about to do, as I grip myself and lean forward, pushing back the strong urge.

I hold back the inevitable successfully. It’s inevitable that I’m going to piss this out, but if it’s going to be in my pants or in a toilet is the unclear part. I hear the ding and the metallic clang of doors opening and I spin around and race into the elevator, full speed. I’m thankful that it was indeed here and open because I would have literally ran head first into the metal doors. I always lose 90% of my rational thought when I’m dying to take a piss.

Dave follows into the equivalent of a rising toaster oven. I glance over to him as he presses the 15 button and I start to march in place. The elevator starts its slow climb as the pressure in my bladder continues its meteoric climb. The sound of my feet shuffling on the floor is the only sound. Sadly, it echoes off the walls announcing the desperation that my voice is either too shy or too stubborn to fully admit.

The torturous elevator ride comes to a conclusion as the doors open and the barrier between me and the 15th floor disappears.

I step out of the elevator quickly, but Dave steps out quicker. He races down the hallway, rolling both of our suitcases behind him with the room key between his teeth. For a second I think his sprint is due to his own need to pee, but when we get to the door I listen to his shaky voice and watch his even shakier hand. “Just hold on a little longer J. I’ll get you to the toilet in time.”

I bite my lip and try to do as Dave says.

The door swings open and I jet inside. Unfortunately a small leak jets into my pants as well. No no no. This never ends well.

I feel another sizeable spurt push its way passed my hold as I enter the bathroom. I unbutton my jeans, but my hand slips on the wet handle of my zipper. The crotch of my jeans has a sizeable wet spot, giving tangible evidence of my struggles.

Dave tries his hand at my zipper, but I can’t hold it in. I really, really can’t hold it in.

I feel the pee spray out from behind the zipper and onto Dave’s hand. I back up, trying to minimize the damage. There is absolutely no reason that me peeing my pants has to involve more than one person getting wet. Wait a minute… I’m… I’m… peeing my pants.

I’m inches away from a toilet, but for some horrific reason, I’m not using that inches away toilet.

I try to walk over to that nearby toilet, but my feet won’t carry me forward. Instead each lead foot stays planted on the floor. I look down at my weighted feet and watch the urine pool around them. My feet stay firmly in place as I let my body slump against the wall behind me and I give in to the urgent need.

I push a little to get the stream going stronger, but I don’t need much encouragement to start the waterfall flowing. I’m officially peeing my pants in front of Dave. As I push the pee out harder, I wonder if the great effort I’m using negates the whole ‘accident’ description of this sad series of events.

The mortifyingly loud splashing of liquid on the tiled floor is only matched in volume by the thumping of my heart.

The feeling of traumatic terror is replaced by the feeling of pure pleasure as my bladder relaxes into emptiness. Each drop of urine that I release brings me a step away from tears of shame and a step toward tears of happiness.

When the therapeutic pee is finally dribbling its way to a close, the warmth travelling down my jeans cools and the wet fabric starts to stick uncomfortably.

Dave clears his throat, but there’s no way in the world he’s more uncomfortable than me at this moment. He shifts his feet, thankfully they aren’t floating in the pee puddle like my own.

His words are uneasy. “Um, I’m going to take a leak and then maybe you should, um, shower? Do you want me to help you clean this up?”

I shake my head, still looking at the wet floor. I can’t possibly look at his eyes. “No. I’m ok.”

I’m ok? Well that might be the worst lie I’ve ever told.


	6. Time to Play a New Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues :D

**Dave POV**

I don’t think I’ve ever peed as slowly as I’m peeing right now. My best friend is standing in a puddle of his own shame and misery and he can’t wash away the guilt until I finish, but this pee is taking forever.

It’s understandable though. I’ve held in this pee for the remaining hours of the car ride. I’ve held it despite the bladder battering sound of hearing John pee multiple times in a bottle. I’ve held it the whole time John peed on the tile. That one had to be the worst, but my bladder did all of that. Now that I think about it, I really did have to pee. No wonder it’s taking so long to leak out the liquids.

I hear John cough behind me. I know it’s not a cough of impatience though. Whenever John finishes a long pee, he coughs a few times. I told him in the past that it’s probably his muscles snapping back from being contracted for so long. All the pee probably shifts his diaphragm. John had responded to this by giving me a ‘what the heck’s a diaphragm’ look and then changing the subject, never to bring it up again.

John coughs again and the sharp sound bounces off of the walls. His cough turns into a sneeze and then another. I opted against the wishing of good health, knowing that John would prefer that I forget he’s here in the first place. His sneezing was another bodily function that betrayed his obvious desires to be not only unnoticed, but also to be anywhere else but here.

My stream thankfully comes to a stop and I wash my hands and exit without a sound.

I sit uneasily on the end of the bed and listen to the soft whimpering behind the door. The sounds of sadness are covered eventually by the shower water, and I’m sure that water, as well as tears, are washing down the drain.

I glance over at the clock and see the neon green numbers blinking back at me. I scowl at the clock. John was seconds away. If only time had slowed down for just a second, maybe John could have hung on. I throw a pillow at the alarm clock. Stupid time. You screwed over my friend.

I’m not sure how long John’s been in the shower, but if he’s planning on taking long enough so I’ll be asleep when he comes out, well that’s a good plan. I’ve been driving all day and I’m beyond exhausted.

I close my eyes and barely notice the dip in the bed when additional body weight is added to the mattress. I mumble something that I’m sure neither of us understands and decide to talk to John in the morning. Well technically its morning. It’s the dark hours of the early morning, but I’m talking about the real morning. You know, after like 10am. Well maybe after 11. Ok, no later than noon.

After what feels like the shortest sleep of my life, the sound of an alarm clock shatters my eardrums. Seriously? This must be retaliation for hitting it with a pillow.

I slap the alarm into silence and rollover to face John. I shake him gently, but he grunts in response. He rolls over so he’s facing away from me. I decide to let my weary friend sleep for a while as I order room service. Normally I wouldn’t splurge on such grandness, but after skipping dinner, a continental breakfast isn’t going to cut it. I say spare no expense.

I dial the number as I reach into John’s wallet and give the person on the other end John’s credit card number.

I order something hearty for the both of us and sit up, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in the clothes that I still had on from yesterday. I look at John, sleeping peacefully, dressed in a clean white t-shirt and pair of gray sweats. I stare at him for longer than a best friend should feel comfortable doing.

I’m not a fool. I know I have feelings for John. It’s just I don’t dwell on them too much. The “feelings” conversation will come up when the time is right. I’ve spent three years waiting for that right time. I don’t think the ‘right time’ is the day after John humiliated himself in front of me. Guess it’ll have to wait for tomorrow. ‘Wait for tomorrow’ is another thing I’ve been saying for three years.

John rolls over to face me again. His eyes are still closed and he still has the half asleep look to him. When he rolls over, the sheet slides off of him. I steal a glance at his uncovered physique and I can’t help but smile.

He’s curled into the fetal position with his hand tucked between his legs. Poor guy can’t get a break. He’s dying for a pee even in his sleep.

I brush the strands of hair hanging over his forehead to the side and he blinks his eyes slowly open. He’s about to close them again, but I figure it’s best to wake him before he wets the bed.

I shake him gently, but with a little urgency. He yawns and opens his eyes fully and quickly adopts a sense of urgency as well.

He winces. “A guy can’t catch a break can he?” His eyes quickly dart to me and he bites his lip. “The truce is over, right?”

I want to tell him no, just walk with your hand between your legs and hobble off to pee, but that might look like I’m pitying him. I know from experience that he doesn’t like to be pitied.

I smirk. “Why? You gotta pee?”

He blinks away the desperate look in his eyes. “Nah. I just wanted to go brush my teeth.”

I lean back against the pillow. “You’re going to brush before breakfast?”

John’s voice shakes. “We’re going down stairs for breakfast? I, um, I should probably wash my face first.”

I smile. “I ordered room service so we don’t have to go downstairs. We can eat in the comfort of our own room with dirty faces.” I offer a raised eyebrow. “You’re comfortable, right John?”

That’s a little code we use. I want to make sure he doesn’t have to pee too badly. Comfort in this context is actually a way to ask if he’s in pain without calling off the game again.

John sighs and takes a little longer than I’m happy with to answer. He closes his eyes and I’m guessing it’s because a strong urge to go nails him in the bladder.

John nods, but those aren’t the rules. He actually has to say it for us to continue. I ask again. “You’re comfortable, right John?”

He looks at me with a little more confidence. “Yeah, of course. This bed is amazing. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in months.”

I smirk. “You sure it wasn’t my body being so close to yours that gave you that glorious slumber?”

He winks at me. “Maybe. Although it would have been better if Dave Strider lifted his ban on snuggling.”

I stretch my arms as I yawn and make sure to brush his thigh as I lower my hands back down. “Dave Strider needs a good reason to lift his ban.”

John shifts away from my ‘accidental’ graze and scoots to the edge of the bed. I guess he’s a little too desperate to flirt. He reaches to get his eyeglasses on the nightstand and his t-shirt lifts just enough for me to see a glimpse of skin. His sweatpants hang low enough for me to almost see everything that’s he’s working with.

He doesn’t really know I’m looking at him this way since he’s turned away, so I shift out of creepy voyeur mode as quickly as I can. 

John squints at me from behind the prescription lenses. His voice sounds a little strained. “After breakfast can I use the bathroom?”

I put my hand at the boarder of where the waistband of his sweatpants starts. I let my hand rest on the space right below his bellybutton and wince almost as much as he does. He definitely has to go. I can feel it.

I don’t press on the round dome underneath my hand because I’m not cruel, but I do press the issue. “You have to use the bathroom?”

John’s response is almost a whisper. “I have to use the bathroom… to brush my teeth.”

I nod slowly. I have him under my control until the end of breakfast. I rub the sensitive skin over his bladder. “Good oral hygiene is important.”

He hums an uncomfortable ‘mm hmm’, but doesn’t push my hand away.

After another ten minutes John’s squirming starts to actually shake the bed, but he’s holding out pretty well otherwise. He hasn’t whined for the bathroom at all and his hands are resting on top of his blanket covered thighs. I wonder how much this neutral position is torturing his bladder.

His silence eventually comes to an end, but hints more at impatience than desperation. “Geez, how long are they going to take with breakfast. Are they actually milking a cow for the milk?”

I snake my hand under his shirt and gently lay my palm against his abdomen as I whisper in his ear. “They’re probably squeezing the oranges for the OJ.”

I press down lightly when I say the word ‘squeezing’ and I feel John twitch under my hand.

I withdraw my hand from his stomach, and my mouth from the edge of his ear. He lets out a sigh and I can’t help but tease him a bit more. “Breakfast will be here soon. Are you thirsty?”

John looks me in the eye and smirks. “Apparently I’m not as thirsty as you.”

I bite my lip, panicked that my behavior has somehow crossed the line out of the friend zone, but John gives me a reassuring smile and all is good again.

I hear a knock at the door and I quickly slide out of the bed. The sudden movement causes a groan from John and his hands disappear swiftly under the covers. I know that he’s holding himself, but just the fact that I can’t see it makes my imagination veer into dangerous territory.

As I head to the door I hear John whisper a pep talk through gritted teeth. “You just have to hold out until breakfast is over. You can do it. You can do it.”

I smirk to myself. We’ll just see about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long stretch without updating. I can't believe this story has over 70 kudos. Thanks so much. I'll update the next chapter pretty quickly. I love hearing comments so feel free to talk to me!


	7. Room Service

**John POV**

I’m not sure how I get myself in these situations. I’m a few steps away from a bathroom, holding onto a bladder that’s way past full, yet I’m not even considering using it. I‘d like to think I’m hardcore dedicated or maybe even intensely committed to this game Dave and I play, but I think my behavior is more demented than devoted. Sadly this is how I’ve been all my life. If I’m playing a game, I want to win. I was the same way when I was a boy spending hours trying to beat the final level of a video game.

My bladder twitches just thinking about how bad I had to pee than too.

Dave wheels the cart of food into the room and pulls me out of my desperate-to-pee memory and I return to my desperate-to-pee reality.

He holds up an empty mug and raises an eyebrow. “Coffee babe?”

I shake my head no, but I do it slowly. The slight movement of my head back and forth makes my insides scream for mercy.

Dave smirks as he pours his coffee in a slow stream. “I wonder if this small container is enough to hold all of this hot liquid.”

I can feel my teeth chattering as every fiber of my body longs for Dave to stop symbolically emptying my bladder. Thankfully the mug reaches its limits before I do and Dave has to stop before the mug starts to overflow.

Dave smiles. “Good job.”

I smile back knowing that the compliment is directed at me instead of the mug.

He picks up the cup of cream and I close my eyes before my insides start to tingle for various reasons.

I think he might have pushed that too far for himself as well because it takes an abnormally long time before I feel him lay the tray of food in front of me on the bed.

I open my eyes to look at him, but his shades still keep me from getting a good read on his thoughts.

I look down at the food in front of me. Let’s see… there’s scrambled eggs, pancakes, fresh fruit, and apple juice. Hmm, apple juice. It’s funny how Dave’s favorite juice has slowly become mine too.

Wait, don’t think of Dave. Just focus on the task at hand. I have to finish breakfast as quickly as possible. That shouldn’t be a problem though. I can choke this down in about 3 minutes, maybe 2 if I skip adding the syrup.

I start to shove the pile of eggs into my mouth, but Dave takes a slow forkful of his. “You do know that you can’t go to the bathroom until both of us finish eating, right?”

I whine, but don’t protest further.

Dave laughs before he starts to eat another forkful. “I’m not a jerk though. I’ll eat at a normal pace.”

Dave starts to eat at a normal speed, true to his word. In fact he would never admit it, but I’m pretty sure he’s eating quicker than normal.

My bursting bladder thanks you for that Dave.

I finish before Dave does and the food that’s filling my stomach leaves my bladder less room to expand. I close my eyes and realize that even breathing is an act of evil against my bladder. I concentrate harder than ever on the act that should be involuntary, and debate in my head whether inhaling is worse than exhaling.

When I start to feel a little light headed I realize I’ve stopped doing both.

I lean back on the pillow and take slow breaths so I don’t pass out. I don’t want Dave to call off the game. But when I glance over at him he looks like he’s completely preoccupied with trying to down half a mug of coffee so I can pee. Even with the cream, the coffee has to be too hot to chug like he’s doing, but he must sense that I’m close to bursting.

When he finishes, he sounds out of breath from drinking so fast. “Ok John. You can go to the bathroom...” He winks. “… you know, to brush your teeth.”

There’s something about him releasing control back over to me that makes my bladder calm down. I wonder if a lot of the desperation was from the adrenaline.

I have a feeling that I’m going to regret this, but I shake my head. “Not yet. I’m good.”

Dave leans over me so his face is less than a breath away from mine. He’s still out of breath, so I feel each rapid exhale from his slightly parted lips blow onto my face.

He offers me a smirk and I offer him a bit more. I lift his shades off and the look in his eyes almost makes me lose it right there. His words bring me even closer. “John. You don’t know what you do to me.”

I smirk as I take his hand and put it over my bladder. “Funny, I thought all this was _you_ doing something to _me_.” When his palm touches my bladder it must have been the hand that held the cream because it’s freezing.

I shiver under the icy touch.

I think this triggers Dave’s protective side because he reaches around with the other hand to hold my waist. I’m sure this gesture is meant to make me feel close and safe in his grip, but the hand on my waist must have been the one that held the coffee mug, because it’s really hot against my skin.

The dual sensations of hot and cold drive my body crazy and every nerve tingles with electricity. Unfortunately my bladder’s filled with the nerves that Dave is stimulating and I feel an overwhelming urge to pee.

I moan as my legs tremble on the bed and even in this state Dave seems to be able to distinguish a pleasure moan from an urgent one. He gives me a quick kiss on the lips (I’m guessing for luck maybe) and he scoots away, giving me a free path to the bathroom.      

I take his hand as I run. “Come with me.”  

I drag Dave, along with my tortured bladder, into the bathroom. My bladder nearly empties right then and there when I see the toilet is in arms reach. I cross my legs and bounce on the balls of my feet.

Our desperation game is first and foremost a game, but there’s an added thrill for Dave when he knows I’m way past my limit and still holding on. I can tease Dave with this new game since I’m close enough to reach the toilet when I need it. I’m also wearing sweatpants, so there’s no risk of stuck zipper malfunctions.

Dave raises an eyebrow. “You want me to stay?”

I turn away from him and face the sink. “I just have to brush my teeth real quick.”

I take the toothbrush out of the holder and run a thin line of toothpaste along the bristles. I put my hand on the faucet knob. If I can run the water and brush my teeth in this state, Dave will think I’m legendary. This right here will replace all the memories of peeing on the side of the road, or in a water bottle, or on this very bathroom floor last night. On the flip side, if I turn the water on and pee my pants instantly, well that would just be tragic.

I grip the knob take a breath. No guts, no glory right? If I’m gonna fail let it be because I took a risk to accomplish something great.

I turn the knob and a gush of water sprays out into the sink. I kneel down on the floor and clench every muscle in my body to make sure my own faucet doesn’t leak.

I feel Dave put his hands on my shoulders as he kneels down next to me. His voice is about twelve octaves lower than usual. I have a strong feeling the sink’s not the only thing that’s turned on. “John…”

He helps me to my feet, but I have to keep my legs crossed as I stand. I try to ignore the surging rush of the faucet and scrape the toothbrush against my teeth. I know that my dentist wouldn’t be pleased with this tooth brushing technique, but it’s all I can manage. I’m literally right on the edge of - .

I push away from the sink and stumble to the toilet feeling my bladder shift for the last time. My elastic waistband is truly my friend as I ease off the one thing between me and my desperate need to pee.

I sigh as the pee rushes into the toilet and nowhere else. I savor the best timed moment of my life as time itself almost stops.

I turn so that I can see Dave, but I can only turn my head since I’m still peeing. I smirk. “Did I forget to mention I had to pee?”

Dave rushes over to me and takes my head in his hands and kisses me. I want to participate a bit more but my body’s still angled at the toilet because I’m still peeing.

As I continue to release the burden of my bladder, he eventually releases my lips.

I lean in and initiate the kiss this time.

I let my words vibrate against his lips. “Happy birthday Babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. Thank you all for being patient. I had really bad writer's block when it came to this story and my other omorashi stories, but thankfully the dark days are over. I wrote this chapter and two more after it literally all night last night, so I'll update rather quickly. Just have to edit all the typos and make it readable lol. Again, I'm so sorry and thanks for being awesome! Also if you have any questions feel free to talk to me :)


	8. All Work and No Play Makes Dave a Dull Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road trip has ended, but the fun is far from over.

**Dave POV**

I think I know now why time travel is impossible. If it were possible I don’t think people would use it for the betterment of mankind, I think people, like me, would use it to constantly relive a point in time that they wish had never ended.

My point in time would be the road trip that John and I had just got back from. We spent every waking second together. Not only that, but John had to pee a lot. A whole lot. Good times.

Now sadly, I’m back to real life and it’s the polar opposite of a road trip. It’s a dead end route to nowhere. I think most people feel the same way about their job.

I continue to stare at the frozen computer in front of me. I froze it on purpose so I wouldn’t have to do any work for another hour. By then someone will probably notice that I’m sitting in front of a blank screen. Actually, I think I’m giving my coworkers a little too much credit. I can milk this for at least another two hours.

I’m a code writer for a major computer company. The only good part about my job is that John works two floors under me in the tech support department. This horrible shell of a company is where we first met.

From the corner of my eye I see Bill from whatever-the-heck-department-he-works-in walk by my office. Maybe if I just stare blankly ahead and don’t breathe he’ll think I’m dead.

Sadly my plan doesn’t work and Bill gives me a smile. “Hi there Dan.”

I don’t correct him.

My silence must have been an invitation to walk in and sit on the edge of my desk because he does just that.

He smiles. “So Don…” I think he’s doing that on purpose. “… I noticed you were out of the office last week.”

I sigh. “Yeah, me and a friend went on a short road trip for my birthday. It was nice to get away for a while.”

Bill starts to play with his phone as he talks. “Did you go anywhere during your time off or did you just stay home?”

Wow. Way to pay attention to the conversation buddy.

I smirk. “I went to the epicenter of a zombie apocalypse. By day I was pelted by acid rain and by night I huddled in abandoned subway stations to avoid being devoured by armies of brain eating undead monsters.”

Bill nods, while still scrolling through his phone. “Mmm hmm. That’s great. Did you take any pictures?”

I lean back in my chair. “When blazing hot balls of radiation started to fall from the sky, my face caught fire and started to melt off. Funny thing is, the flames engulfing my face made all of my Selfies overexposed. I should have turned off the low light setting.”

Bill still hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. “Excellent. I’m really busy right now but I definitely want to check out those vacation pics some other time.”

He walks away and I stand up slowly. This seems like an excellent time for a bathroom break. I actually really need to use the bathroom since the only work that I did this morning consisted of drinking four cups of coffee.

Now that I’m standing, I’m really starting to feel the effects of that coffee.

The people I work with are tools and I don’t want to encounter some variation of Bill in the bathroom, so I take the stairs down two floors to visit John.

I walk down the generic hallway and I see a sign hanging from the ceiling. The sign’s at the end of the hall and shows the universal white stick-figure man and the white stick figure woman. My bladder rejoices at the sight of helpful directions, but I need to take a quick detour before I cruise off of desperation highway. 

I duck into the main room of tech support and browse through the cubicles before I find John. He’s swiveling his rolling chair from side to side with his hand between his legs. His eyebrows are furrowed in deep concentration. It’s so obvious that he has to pee, but the light on his headset signals that he’s on a call. His eyes dart over to me for a second, but he looks away as he talks into his headset. “Did you try turning the computer off and then on again ma’am? Mmm hmm. Yes, I’ll wait.”

He presses the mute button on the phone and sighs.

I sit on the edge of his desk and motion toward his hand between his legs. “That must be some awesome tech support you’re giving that woman.”

John rolls his eyes. “Don’t be gross. I have to pee. Like really bad.”

His admission shocks me at first and then I remember that we don’t play our games at work. Heck, I’m all for mixing business with pleasure, but I may have gotten John a little too desperate at an interdepartmental meeting in the past so now work is a no play zone.

I give John a cheesy smile. “That’s actually why I came down here. I gotta pee too. You wanna go together?”

John laughs. “Yeah, maybe I can hold your purse for you when you’re in the stall.”

I pick up his stapler. “That’s very sexist of you John. Two dudes can take a leak together. Are you afraid something weird’s going to happen? I mean, it’s not Iike I’m going to pin you against the wall, strip you naked and –.”

John cuts me off. “Dude, we’re at work. Leave your sexual – um, yes ma’am I’m still on the line.” He glares at me, but he voice is all smiles. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad I could help with your issue. Thank you for calling tech support. Have a nice day.”

He takes the headset off of his ears and hangs it around his neck. He leans forward pressing both hands tighter against his groin. “I’m seriously about to pee myself right now.”

I lick my lips and whisper seductively. “Sexual fantasies…”

John laughs. “That’s really creepy and all kinds of inappropriate in the workplace. And stop making me laugh. I have another 20 minutes before my break and I really don’t want to have an accident. Just go take a leak without me.”

I shake my head. “No can do Buddy. You’re coming with me.”

I snap open the stapler and empty the staples into the trash. “Whoops. Looks like you’re out of staples. This calls for a trip to the supply closet. I think I might have seen a sign at the end of the hall that indicated that the Men’s room and the supply closet were in the same general direction.”

I hand John the empty stapler and he smiles. “I owe you.”

I nod as we walk down the hall. “You can repay me in the actual supply closet.”

When we get to the bathroom John tosses the stapler on the sink and races over to a urinal. I want to tease him a little more, but when he starts grumbling, “Stupid freakin’ zipper”, I just don’t have the heart to.

He finally gets the little metal devil to work and stands up in front of the urinal. Like a good friend, I don’t want to start before he does. Listening to someone pee when you can’t is one of the worst feelings in the world. I close my eyes about to go, but I hear John’s slightly panicked voice. “Yes, this is John speaking, how may I help you?”

I put a halt on the impending stream of pee before it even starts, but it feels like a freight train slamming into my bladder. I hunch over the urinal and contract every muscle in my strained body. My head leans against the cold porcelain of the urinal and if I wasn’t so disturbingly uncomfortable, I’d be a little grossed out by this fact.

I clench my teeth along with every other opening in my body. “John, you might want to put that on mute before I permanently damage something here.”

I’m not sure if John hears my request because he continues to talk to the caller. The only thing that stops me from strangling him is that his voice sounds just as desperate as I feel. “S-so this is a n-new problem, or h-has your d-device always s-started up in s-safe mode?”

I’m literally doubled over the urinal and I try to hold it, but that’s not gonna happen. The pee jets out of me and I moan so loud that even I’m embarrassed. That takes a lot.

John’s whimpers in response, but clears his throat. “Y-yes sir. It’s j-just a bit of in-interference on my end. In fact…”

John’s voice stops and I hear the sound of him peeing with me.

I’m still leaning forward, hunched over the urinal for support, but I turn to face John. “Dropped call?”

John’s head was thrown back, looking at the ceiling with his eyes closed. “Your pee sounded like static over the phone to that guy. I just went with that.”

I grunt as I try to force more out of my bladder quicker so I can ease the insane pressure. “Static… hmm. What did the moan sound like?”

John laughs. “It sounds like unemployment if that call was monitored.”

John finishes peeing before I do and washes his hands before standing next to me. He whistles. “Dude, when you said you had to go, you weren’t kidding.”

I can feel myself blushing from all the attention John’s giving me, so I decide to throw a little shade his way. “You’re watching me pee? That’s a little kinky Jonathan.”

He laughs it off, but his face goes deep red, so I’ve accomplished my desired effect.

He bites his lip. “So are we really um, you know, are we going to go to the supply closet cuz, um it’s kind of small and um…”

He sounds really nervous. Poor guy. We’ve gotten it on a few times, that’s nothing new, but those times have always been spontaneous. I think giving him prior warning might have caused the thoughts to rattle around a little too long in his head. Seeing him squirm is one of my favorite things in the world, but I let him off the hook this time.

I force out a little more urine. I can’t believe I’m still going. “You think the supply closet is small? You should see my apartment.”

John smiles and shifts his weight. If I hadn’t just seen him take that piss I would think he has to pee.

I smirk. “No really. You should see my apartment. I mean really _see_ my apartment. John, I’m inviting you to my apartment tonight.”

This is probably the most unromantic way to ask John to stay the night for the first time, but I’m not really the romantic type. Did you catch the part where I was going to hook up with him in a supply closet?

John nods his head more vigorously than that stupid bobble head figure on Bill’s desk. God, I hate Bill.

John opens his mouth to say more, but the door swings open and we’re both reminded of the ‘public’ part of public restroom.

Conversation will just be awkward now that there’s a third party here, so John gives me a quick “I’ll call you” signal with his hand, picks up the stapler off of the sink, and leaves.

I close my eyes as I finish peeing.

I’ve made my decision. I’m going to do it. Tonight I’m going to tell John how I really feel about him and not punk out.

I know that I’m smiling, but I guess I’m grinning more than I should because the guy that caused John to leave laughs. “Somebody looks happy.”

I smile a bit wider. You have no idea random guy in the bathroom. You have no idea.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be up by next Thursday. Thanks everyone for all the kudos and awesome comments.


	9. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Dave tell John how he really feels or will a little need to pee get in the way? Sorry, that summary is a little cheesy.

**John POV**

The rest of the day flies by. It actually flies so fast that when I glance over at the clock, I realize I’m almost late. I told Dave that I would meet him at the parking lot at 5 and it’s 4:58!

I shut off my computer and literally run down the hall. It’s not until I reach the stairs that make an unpleasant discovery. I really, really, have to pee. I hadn’t realized it before, but now that I’m hopping down two stairs at a time I can feel the bouncing water balloon inside of me.

When I get to the bottom of the stair landing, I cross my legs as I hold onto the railing. I put a hand over my lower stomach. It feels full against my hand as the need to go climbs quickly. I guess holding it for so long this afternoon weakened my bladder a bit.

For a split second I entertain the idea of going back inside, but I’m already late so I press my legs together one last time and continue my journey.

I spot Dave leaning on his car and I’m happy to see that he’s smiling.

Dave spins his key ring on his finger. “Punctuality is very important. I was starting to think you bailed on me. Then I saw that your car was still here and all is right with the world.”

I put my hands in my pockets and shift my weight. “I didn’t realize your world revolves around me.”

Dave smirks, but doesn’t deny it. He changes the subject instead. “So I was thinking we can take my car and then carpool to work tomorrow.”

I open the passenger side door, anxious to sit so I can shift into a better hold-it position. Sitting in Dave’s car with an insane urge to pee is really familiar.

As the car races down the highway, my heart starts to race. I have to go so badly right now. This was not well thought out at all.

I’ve been fidgeting enough on my seat to make it more than obvious that I’m in desperate need of a toilet, but it’s still painfully embarrassing to admit it. “Dave I gotta take a leak.”

Dave pulls his shades down and looks at me for a moment before looking back at the road. He smirks slightly. “We’re about ten minutes away from my place.”

I can feel myself blushing as I try to regain some of my dignity. “I didn’t go before I left work because I didn’t want you to have to wait.”

Dave smirks a bit wider. “And now you’re the one who has to wait.”

I put a hand between my legs. “Don’t pretend like this isn’t the highlight of your day.”

Dave turns the wheel down a dirt road. “So first my world revolves around you and now you’re the highlight of my day. I think someone’s ego might be as over inflated as his bladder.”

I leaned against the pressure of my hands as a pretty bad urge slammed into my bladder. “No fair. You can’t start with the pee jokes when I gotta go this bad. If I start laughing, we’re going to have a problem.”

Dave bites his lip and lets out a soft whine. I can tell he wants to say something funny, but thankfully he keeps biting his lip and holds in the comment.

We pull into the driveway and my bladder stills enough for me to take a good look at Dave’s dwellings. His house was exactly what I had pictured in my mind. It was a cross between a log cabin and a bunker that disaster preppers go to when there’s an impending doom’s day event.   

My bladder quickly reminds me of the current disaster that’s about to unfold and I quickly exit the car. I follow Dave up to the front of the house and wait as he takes forever to unlock the door.

I shove my hands in my pockets and march in place, trying to ignore the pounding pressure inside of me. I really want to do a full-on I’ve gotta pee dance, but Dave’s neighbor is mowing the lawn and would have a great view of the desperation show.

Just breathe. You survived the car ride. You just have to ride out this overwhelming urge a little longer. Oh my god. Has the situation really gotten to pep talk level already?

Dave continues to fiddle with the lock, but the door swings open on it’s own. A guy that looks a heck of a lot like Dave (he even has the same shades) appears from behind the door and smiles. “Howdy.”

Dave pushes the unexpected houseguest out of the way, clearing a path for us to enter. Dave mutters under his breath. “Hey Bro.”

The stranger looks too much like Dave to be a random freeloading friend so I’m guess that bro really did mean brother in this case.

I don’t want to be rude, so I stall my trip to the bathroom just a little longer to introduce myself. I extend my hand, but keep my other hand in my pocket and my legs crossed as a necessity. I force the best fake smile I can manage and shake the guy’s hand. “Hi, I’m John.”

The mysterious guy shakes my hand and laughs like something I said was hysterical. “You can call me Bro.” He tilts his shades down and his eyes look really unfocused. His speech becomes more slurred the more he speaks. “You want some of this?”

He held out the hand that I’m not shaking and there’s a small bag. I’m sure he’s gone through of a few of these bags before Dave and I got here.

Dave sighs as he tosses the keys on the coffee table. “Dude, why are you crashing in my place and getting high all day?”

I’m not sure what the appropriate time frame between a formal introduction and ‘excuse me for a minute before my bladder explodes’ should be, but I figure now is a good time to go.

Dave still looks pissed off so I ask Bro for directions. “Which way is your bathroom?”

Bro frowns as he walks away. “It’s the second door on the left, but you gotta wait. I don’t think that burrito I had this morning is agreeing with me. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten like twelve of them.”

Before I could process what was happening, Bro closed the bathroom door behind him for what I assume will be a while.

I sit on the couch next to Dave, trying to convince both of us that I’m not about to burst. I squeeze myself as tightly as I can while I try to have a normal conversation. “So he’s your brother?”

Dave rolls his eyes. “He’s like a brother and a father.”

I wince. “Those are two completely different things.”

Dave smirks. “Yeah, for most people, but for me it’s like one and the same.”

At this point I feel so full I‘m surprised my eyes aren’t floating by now. I really did want to know more about Dave’s family, but right now that isn’t my number one priority.

I rock forward against the weight of my hands and moan. “Dave…”

Dave laughs. “I think you might be the unluckiest person I’ve ever met.”

I moan as wave after wave of pressure descends on my poor body. I grit my teeth. “Don’t laugh at me. It makes me hate you.” I had tried to put a little anger behind the words, but my voice was too shaky to accomplish that.

The next sentence slides out a little more pathetically than I intend it to. “Maybe you… maybe you just hate me.”

Dave gives me a strange look. “You’re higher than my brother if you believe that. That’s the opposite of how I feel.”

I think I can read between the lines of what Dave’s saying and my heart starts to beat a little faster.

Dave reaches for my hand in between my legs. I let out a rather loud whine and hope he thinks the reason is just because I really have to go. The smirk on his face tells me otherwise.

He cups both of my hands in his and… and…

No. No way. This can’t be. He’s not going to confess his undying love for me. This is just my imagination. He’s just going to tell me to hold it a little longer so I don’t pee all over his couch. And that would be a lot more doable if he didn’t have my hands in his. I certainly can’t grab myself if my hands are in his.

He takes his shades off and squints his eyes. “John, we’ve been friends for a long time.”

I gasp and a feel a little pee escape. I squeeze my thighs together because there’s no way I’m pulling away from Dave’s hands. Not when he’s on the verge of ... wait a minute. He can’t tell me now. He can’t tell me this when I’m bursting.  No, no, no. Not while I have to pee. I can’t - .

His confession continues, interrupting my thoughts. “We’ve been friends with benefits for a long time too. But John…”

He takes a minute to catch his breath and I have no hope of catching mine. His eyes widen and I can see what he’s going to say before he says it.

“John…”

No one’s ever said my name quite like that. I want to close my eyes so badly, but I need to look at him as he speaks to make sure it’s real.

I stare at his lips as they curl into a smirk. He leans in inches from my lips making it impossible to look anywhere else but into his eyes.

He puts his hand gently against my bladder. “I’m going to kiss you, wishing you were my boyfriend and I won’t stop until you are.”

I smile. “And you say I’m the one with the inflated ego.”

He kisses me forcefully. Almost a little too forcefully to hold in a full bladder. I feel a spurt escape and I whine against his lips. I grab between my legs to stop anymore from leaking out and I’m happy to feel that the crotch of my jeans is still dry. My briefs are a different story, but at least I can celebrate that small victory.

Dave eases up on the aggression of the kiss after my whine and a gentleness that I didn’t know he had consumes the rest of our liplock.

Before I finally pull away he gently takes my lip between his teeth so that the kiss can linger on a little longer. I have to blink my eyes back into focus when it’s all done and seriously, how’s a guy supposed to not pee himself after that?

Dave’s voice is raw and raspy. “So, are you my boyfriend?”

I smirked. “Boyfriend? After a kiss like that I’m surprised I’m not pregnant.”

Dave puts his hand over my bladder. “You feel kind of pregnant.”

I can’t help but laugh and that’s when the floodgates open. I have just enough to time scoot a little away from him and I’m glad that our first act together as boyfriends does not involve me peeing on him.

It feels so good to go that I almost forget that this is an accident and push out as much as I can as quickly as I can. My lap is drenched almost instantly and it’s not long before I feel like I’m sitting in a pool of water.

I let the liquid pour out of me as I soak the couch with the consequences of playing chicken too long with my bladder. I have lost to Dave a few times when we played our holding game, but this is the first time that I feel like I’ve lost to my bladder. As the pressure subsides my bladder starts to tremble a bit and a felt a little like it’s laughing at my loss.

I feel Dave’s hand on my shoulder and I force myself to stop peeing. I still have to go really badly, but I can hold in the rest until Bro comes out.

Dave must see that I don’t have that euphoric glow of fully emptying the tank and he helps me stand. “I think I might have bottle or something that you can finish going in. I probably should have offered you that in the first place.”

I try to smile despite the embarrassment. “You mean I could have peed before your heartfelt confession?”

Dave nods. “Yeah, but I couldn’t wait. Looks like you weren’t the only one who couldn’t wait.”

I cross my damp legs, trying to prevent them from getting any damper. “Babe, what did I tell you about the pee jokes?”

Dave laughs as he disappears to find a better place for me to pee than his couch. He reappears with a water bottle and a pair of dry jeans. “We’re sharing clothes already. I didn’t think we’d be one of _those_ couples.”

I take the bottle from him and wink. “Trust me. We’ll never be one of those couples. Now let me pee in this bottle so I can kiss you properly. You know, without an overwhelming feeling that I’m about to pee my pants.”

Dave bites his lip. “Yes sir.”     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time Dave manned up lol. I wanted the confession to be serious, but still in character for both of them. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I added a little Bro in there for fun as well :D Thanks again for all the support and all the love!


	10. When Your Man is Left Unguarded part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter name is a play on the chess analogies I used for a few of the chapters.

**Dave POV**

I stare at John sleeping soundly next to me. I’ve been in this bed with him for a few hours, but somehow I haven’t gotten to the sleeping part yet.

One bonus of having a brother that’s high all the time is that he didn’t ask way I randomly cleaned the couch and drowned it in Febreeze during the middle of the day. He also didn’t ask why I had tossed John’s jeans in the washing machine for a midday washing. Most importantly, he didn’t ask why John is currently sharing my bed instead of sleeping on the recently sanitized couch.

I continue to stare at my bedmate and smile at the way his chest rises and falls as he sleeps. I know, I know. Watching someone sleep is one of those things that make you sound romantic if you’re a character in a romance novel or a movie, but when you do it in real life it just makes you sound eerily unbalanced and slightly psychotic.

I think it’s been pretty well established that I’m the dominant one in our relationship. When I think about my boyfriend, I know he’s completely mine. I don’t mean that he’s mine in some barbaric, caveman, possessive way, I mean that he’s mine to love and to protect. No one else has that unique honor that I’ve been entrusted with.

John blinks his eyes open and catches me looking. I don’t look away though. I haven’t looked away for hours.

John yawns and squints his eyes slightly. He always squints his eyes before he says something sarcastic. “I’m really happy we made this official. It’s nice to see that you’re not making things between us awkward at all.”

I smirk. “I can’t just take in the majesty of my boyfriend?”

He brushes a piece of my hair away from my forehead. “If you’re going to ‘take in my majesty’ I’d really like to be awake for that. Besides, the way that we’ve been doing it, _I’m_ the one that takes in _your_ majesty.”

I swat his hand away. “Stop talking dirty. I’m trying to have a moment here.”

John closes his eyes. “You do that. I’m going back to sleep.”

I smirk. “I’ll be watching.”

John’s eyes snap open. “Ok, let’s set some ground rules. Rule one: The creepy staring has to stop.”

I sigh. “But John, you complete me.”

John shakes his head. “No cheesy movie references.”

I open my mouth to speak, but John holds his hand up to stop me. “And if you write me a poem, so help me God -.”

I kiss him since that seems to be the only way to stop his list of things that I can’t do. But, really, I’m so going to do all of those things just to piss him off.

He pushes me away. “I’m serious. Now get some sleep. We have to go to work tomorrow.”

That sentence isn’t 100% accurate. I already called in sick for John. I used his phone when I sent the text so it’s completely legit. I gave the always popular, never appreciated explosive diarrhea excuse. That one might buy John another bonus sick day and since we’re approaching Saturday, that would give us a four day weekend. I’m sure John will thank me for my awesomeness in the morning.

As for me, I’m just not going to show up. Sometimes I like to do that just to keep people guessing.

I’m not sure what time the sandman finally did show up to knock me out during the night, but when I wake up I feel like I had slept like the dead. That must have been some left hook Mr. Sandman jacked me with.

John’s sitting up in the bed scrolling through his texts. He gives me the side-eye. “It appears that I have explosive diarrhea.”

I shrug. “No need to share dude, just go to the bathroom and take care of it.”

His eyes shift back to the phone. “So I’m guessing you took the day off too. Does that mean you have epic plans for us today?”

I stretch my arms over my head and I realize how full my bladder is. Waking up with a full bladder is like a ‘screw you’ from Mother Nature. Well, you know what? Maybe I’d recycle more if she didn’t do things like this to me. Although if this she could do this to John every morning, I’d be first in line to shove those empty cans in that machine at the store that always smells like beer. To tell you the truth, I’d plant a freakin’ tree for the repeated chance to see John desperate to pee. Right now though, I have to worry about my own bladder.

I reach for my shades from the nightstand and I feel the stretch all the way to my bladder. I quickly put on the sunglasses to cover up the emotions radiating from my face, but I can’t help crossing my legs under the covers.

John’s eyes are still glued to his phone as he speaks. “Your bro is in the shower. I don’t think he’s coming out anytime soon.” His voice has just enough strain in it for me to assume he has to use the bathroom pretty badly as well.

I can probably walk in and take a piss while Bro is in the shower, but John can’t and it seems just a little unfair. Wow. Compassion? I must really be falling hard for the guy.

I have a few containers that John and I can pee in or we can even take a leak in the backyard if we’re discreet enough, but my competitive side is urging me to take a drive to somewhere with a toilet and go there.

I walk over to a pile of clothes and smell a shirt to see if it passes the ok-enough-to-wear test. It passes the test and I slip it over my head, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I’m going to take a quick run to the gas station. They have this egg and steak sandwich that I’m really craving.”

I’m not. That sandwich is actually disgusting, but the gas station is the only place in a five mile radius that has a bathroom. A bathroom is something I’m definitely craving.

John nods. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

John redresses in the outfit he wore yesterday, but I keep on the sweatpants I slept in. My bladder is too full to risk navigating zippers and buttons and all of those complicated things.

It’s a little cold outside because it’s still fairly early in the morning, so I decide to wear a hoodie. I toss one to John as well.

We both stay pretty stubborn during the car ride and don’t mention our need to go to each other, but when we reach the gas station I can hear a desperate whimper escape John’s lips.

I park the car and jiggle the keys out of the ignition. John opens his door and steps out immediately. This gives me a split second to give myself a well needed grab. The aid my hand gives me is short-lived because I have to remove it from my between my legs before John sees.

We walk into the small shop connected to the station and I can instantly smell the nauseating aroma of those sandwiches that I had advertised as, well I don’t remember exactly what I had said, I just need a bathroom right now!

I’m about to give up the game and ask the man behind the counter for the restroom key, but the man smiles. “You look like you really need the restroom key, son.”

I’m about to check this off as the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to me in a long time, but I realize the man isn’t looking at me. He’s looking at John.

John has his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, but the tell-tale sign is the way he’s bouncing up and down on his crossed legs.

I do my first good deed as a boyfriend and answer for him. “It’s been a long drive for both of us.” I shift my weight from on foot to the other, trying to take a little embarrassing attention away from John.

The cashier man smiles. “Aint that something. So are you two from out of town?”

John’s voice is literally shaking. I didn’t realize he had to go that badly. “I’m sorry sir, I really need that key. It’s an emergency.”

If I wasn’t about to pee myself right along with him, I would have found those words so hot.

The cashier man laughs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you have to wait longer.”

He offers the key to John and poor John has to take one of his hands out of the pocket to accept it. John mumbles a quick thank you and sprints out of the store. I’m guessing he took a mental note of where the toilet was when we had pulled up.

I slowly follow, knowing that a key to the bathroom means there is only one bathroom. It isn't hard to do the Math.  One toilet plus two people equals me standing outside a locked door doing a pretty urgent pee dance.

After about two seconds of waiting I realize I’m really about to pee myself. I bang on the door in a very unDave-like way. “John, I’m about to lose it. Hurry up!"


	11. When Your Man is Left Unguarded part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter deals with someone getting physically assaulted. I wanted to add the warning in case this is a trigger for anyone.

**John POV**

I can hear Dave begging me hurry. I try to push out as much as I can as quickly as I can, but I can’t release a whole night’s worth of urine in under sixty seconds. I grit my teeth as I force myself to stop peeing. It's just as unnatural as it is painful and a few drops protest by leaking out.

The urge to go is almost indescribably intense, but I know that it’s just because I killed the stream way, way, way too soon.

I lean against the wall and yell through the door. “You can come in. It’s not locked.”

Dave bursts into the door and literally unleashes a tidal wave into the bowl. I shove my hands between my legs and cross my legs tightly. I kept my hands trapped between my legs, making sure to keep the pee from joining in on Dave’s pee party.

Dave seems like he’s too caught up in what he’s doing to even notice that I sacrificed my own comfort for his. I don’t regret it though. He would never admit it, but I’m a lot better at holding it than he is. The only reason I lose most of our desperation games is that I’m usually at lot more desperate when we start.

As my bladder pounds with jealously, I close my eyes. Hearing Dave peeing is bad, but it's better than hearing _and_ seeing him do it.  After a really long time, I crack my eyes open just to make sure he’s still peeing and he didn't finish and turn on the faucet. He's literally peeing at full on faucet intensity.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I squeeze my legs tighter together. My hands are actually starting to get a little numb from all the pressure from being between my clenched thighs.

There’s a moment of silence and I realize Dave has finally finished. I open my eyes and see him looking at me with panic. I don’t really have time to explain and I take his place in front of the toilet and start up right where I had left off.

Dave’s voice is soft. “John. You didn't have to do that.”

I try to grunt out a response. “Can’t talk… concentrating… right now…”

Dave gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be in the store. By the way, I lied. Those sandwiches are nasty. I’m not buying one.”

He left and I continue to go for a while. When I finally have gone enough to completely satisfy my bladder I give myself a little shake and I wash my hands. I turn off the light and pull the door closed. I’m just relocking the door when I feel someone standing behind me.

I smile. “I thought you were going to wait in the store for me, Babe.”

It takes me just a second longer than I wish it had to realize it’s not Dave that’s standing behind me.

I turn around and a really angry, really muscular man is looking back at me. I know exactly what he’s thinking so I try to talk my way out of it. “Um, I was just going to meet my girlfriend in the store. Did you see her?”

The man looks at me like I'm a piece of dirt. “And here I thought you were the girl in the relationship.”

I try to laugh it off, but I’m shaking too much to pass off as anything other than completely terrified.

The man slams me against the door and glares down at me. “I saw you two go into that bathroom together. Why can’t you just do that freaky stuff somewhere else?”

I want to respond, but the words are trapped in a lump in my throat. I nod enthusiastically instead.

His eyes flash with a dark hatred and I know this is going to be bad. I gather all the strength I can and push him away, but I only get a few steps away before he grabs my arm and spins me around to face him.

He kicks me really hard between the legs and I lean forward from the force. It hurts so bad I almost throw up, but his fist connects with my head before I can fully register the pain.

The first punch knocks off my glasses and I almost fall to the ground, but he holds me up with one hand while he punches me with the other. I feel the second and third punches, but when his fist keeps colliding with my head it all starts to become a blur. I can taste the metallic blood in my mouth and all I can do is moan. “Dave… Dave please… help me…”

He must be hitting me harder because I’m starting to feel the pain of his punches slamming against my skull again. I try to cover my face with my hands and I can feel his fist slamming against the back of my hands.

I try to yell out Dave’s name, but the harder I try the softer my voice gets until I’m just pleading for him to rescue me in my head.

Just when I think I’m going to pass out, I feel the guy’s grip on my arm loosen and I fall onto the grass.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but I suddenly feel someone grab my arm and I start to yell. “Please stop… don’t hurt me… please…”

I grab onto the blades of grass underneath me hoping that I can make it through this new round of pain.

The voice of the stranger lifting me from the grass instantly calms me when I realize it belongs to Dave. I can’t understand what he’s saying over the ringing in my ears, but I curl into his arms as he rocks me back and forth.

When the buzzing in my ears stop, I can listen to the words he’s saying. He’s telling me how much he loves me and how safe I am and how much I mean to him. I feel just as safe as I did waking up to him this morning. The words he’s using sound just like poetry.

I smile. Thanks for breaking the rules, Babe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the hardest to write by far. I want this story to go on for a lot more chapters so I felt it was important to add in a little more plot so it doesn't get too repetitive or predictable. I hope you like the direction it's going in. Please let me know what you think.


	12. Broken Pieces Just Means That There's More To Love

**Dave POV**

I feel the heat from the car vents blasting me in the face. It’s about a million degrees right now, but John is sitting next me shivering. I’m not sure if he’s shaking because he’s still scared or if he’s starting to go into shock, but whichever it is I’m convinced that abnormal amounts of heat will fix it.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, but it’s not just the temperature of the car that has my blood boiling. When the cops came I had to hear John tell the story of his attack in painful detail. The cops made a sketch of the guy based on John’s descriptions, but I didn’t recognize him. That doesn’t matter though. I’m going to find the guy and when I hunt him down, I’m going to kill him. No one hurts John like that and gets away with it.

We’re sitting in the hospital parking lot because my John had to be pieced back together after he was brutally attacked. I shake my head, trying to clear my brain of that thought. That horrible reoccurring thought that lingers in my brain like a nightmare that I can't shake. How do you wake up from a nightmare if you’re not asleep?

I exhale slowly. I need to drive John back to my place, but I need to calm down first. I’m literally so amped up that I can’t even see straight.    

C’mon Dave. You gotta pull it together. John needs to lean on you right now. Just push the emotions away. Just push it down. You’re Dave. You can do this.

I look next to me at John and he’s shaking a little less than before. His left hand is broken and sealed up tight in a bright white cast and his other hand is between his legs.

I ask the stupidest question in the world. “Are you in pain?”

He winces and rubs between his legs, which is making me respond in a highly inappropriate way. His voice is as raw and broken as his hand. “Yeah, it hurts.”

I sigh. “You better heal up quick down there. That’s my favorite part of you.”

John smirks. “I thought your favorite part was my eyes.”

I wink. “You don’t pee out of your eyes.”

John laughs. The laugh starts off like any normal laugh does, but it tapers off at the end as he grunts in pain.

The sound of John in pain tries to push past my emotional block, and it almost works, but I’ve been blocking out crap like this for years. I’m a pro by now. I keep my voice steady. “I know you want to go home, but maybe we should go back into the hospital. Maybe you should stay overnight.”

John leans his head back on the head rest. “You just want me in the hospital overnight so you can check off hot-bed-pan-fantasy on your To Do list.”

I smirk. “I’m more of a catheter kind of guy.”

John groans. “You sick freak.”

John’s teasing calms me down slightly, so I turn the key in the ignition and give driving a try.

I put my hand on John’s knee and he flinches, but I pretend not to notice. I push back those freakin’ emotions that start to poke at me again. “Why don’t you take a nap? I don’t really have food at the house so I’m driving us to one of those waffle joints.”

John sighs. “I can’t take a nap. Whenever I close my eyes I see him.”

An uncomfortable silence follows. At this point I should be telling him everything is going to be alright and crap like that, but I can’t. If I say something now, I know I’m going to start crying. 

I grip the steering wheel tighter than a driver ever really needs to as I try to steer the conservation away from the emotionally unstable cliff that it’s headed over. “Do you like waffles?”

John nods. “I do, but I can’t go into a restaurant. I look terrible.”

I turn into the waffle house parking lot. “Nah, you look gorgeous. You should see some of the butt uglies that stagger into this place.”

John pulls his hood over his head. “You know what I mean. I-I look like…” He starts to breathe faster. “D-Dave, I-I can’t p-people will k-know… I…. I…”

I take both of his hands in mine. “It’s ok. I’m here. Baby steps John. It’s just breakfast. It’s just breakfast.”

John bites his lip and nods. “It’s just breakfast.”

I push the door open and a friendly hostess greets us. “Welcome to Waffle Explosion. Would you like a table for two?”

I nod and she leads us to a booth. She must notice John’s injury when we sit down because she politely starts to pry. “Are you alright? What happened?”

I don’t have to be psychic to tell John doesn’t want to rehash the story so I answer instead. “If I tell you he got too close to a waffle explosion can we get a free meal?”

She smiles at me. “The best I can do is free refills.”

I smirk. “Awesome. I’ll have my pancakes in a glass.”

The waitress laughs as she takes down our order. She either finds me as hilarious as I think I am, or she’s angling for a nice tip. She’s still smiling as she walks away so I’m guessing it’s the former rather than the latter.

I look at John. His black eye has turned an unhealthy shade of purple and it almost gives me chills to look at him. “You’re right John. You’re the ugliest person here. The florescent lights aren’t doing you any favors, buddy.”

John smiles. “Jerk.”

I celebrate the fact that I got John to smile, but my victory is cut short when I notice the booth is shaking. I can tell John is bouncing his knee nervously, causing the sensation, but I can also totally recognize his ‘need to take a leak’ squirming. He had just peed at the gas station, but when the adrenaline starts pumping sometimes the bladder gets anxious.

The nonbruised areas of John’s face tint a slight red and I’m pretty sure he knows that I know.

He’s never been shy about letting me know he has to take a leak if we’re not playing the game and I’m sure after what he’s been through desperation games is the last thing on his mind. I try to approach the topic delicately even though a desperate John always does magical things to me.

John picks up one of the eighty thousand syrup bottles on our table. Seriously, why so many flavors when everyone just uses the maple syrup one?

John pours a little of the butter pecan flavored one onto his finger and tastes it. I guess he proved me wrong on that one.

I smile. “Is it good?”

He looks from right to left and then reaches across the table offering his finger. “Try it yourself.”

I lean over the table, more than ready to try John’s syrup, but as I lean forward, I bump his knee. He winces and puts his casted hand over his crotch. He leaves his other hand out still offering the sample of syrup, but with John feeling uncomfortable I know it won’t taste as sweet.

I tread lightly, trying not to make a terribly traumatic day even worse. “Are you scared to go?”

His eyes dart to the restroom and then back. His voice is almost too low to hear. “I’m not scared. I just… I don’t want to be alone. You know?”

I nodded. I’m pretty sure if I let John go while I stay here, I’m going to have a full blown panic attack wondering if he’s ok. Wow, he’s been my boyfriend for less than a day and already we have an unhealthy codependent relationship.

John’s voice pulls me from my Freudian psychoanalysis. “Dave, I have to go.”

His voice doesn’t mask his panic very well so I offer a solution quickly. “You want me to go with you? Unzipping with one hand might be a little tricky.”

John bounces his knee a little quicker and nods. “Yeah. I better go now to make room for the free refills.”

I lead the way, as John follows close behind. At one point he grabs my hand with his good hand.

I don’t really want him to have to go in alone so I’m glad when I see that the Men’s room is a larger one with stalls and urinals.

John lets go of my hand as we enter the restroom. He looks at me with slightly panicked eyes as he chews on his fingers. He has his casted hand pressed against his groin, looking a little more desperate to go than I thought he was. I wonder if he had to go at the hospital and was just too shy to say something.

The restroom is empty and it seems to calm him down a bit. I crouch down so that I’m at eye level with this groin and he moves his hand, giving me a clear path to help him with his zipper. He’s jiggling his legs which is giving me a hard time gripping the zipper.

I hold him by the hips and he reduces the rapid leg twitching to slight squirming. He closes his eyes and tilts his head to the ceiling.

I unbutton the jeans first, loosening the waistband. The button releases with a pop and John sighs as his bladder swells a bit now that it isn’t constrained by his jeans. I pull down the zipper and in the silence of the bathroom I can actually hear the sound of the metal teeth grinding as I slide it down.

John whines and it sounds more pleasure derived than painful so I pull the zipper up again just to tease him a bit.

He blinks his eyes open and looks down at me.

I pull the zipper halfway down and then zip it up again. “Zipper’s bad.”

John grunts. “So is my boyfriend.”

I put my hand against his bladder and his breath hitches. I stand up and let my lips press against his. It’s more of just a lip touch than a kiss and I can feel his lips shaking against mine. I taste the sweet syrup on his lips and my dominance starts to waver as the taste of John’s lips start to weaken me.

I put a hand behind his head reestablishing my control and comforting him at the same time. I use my other hand to play with his zipper. I tickle the zipper pull with my fingers and the jingling sound that’s produced makes him shiver. 

John’s body language screams impatience as I tease his lips with mine and his zipper with my fingers. I can actually feel the word ‘Dave’ escape from his mouth and his impatience starts to become contagious.

I let my hand yank down his zipper in one swift motion just as I deepen the kiss. John has the choice to either keep kissing me or use his newfound freedom of unfastened jeans to relieve himself. He whines as he squeezes his groin with his good hand and keeps kissing me.

I feel the urgency of his kiss and I’m lost in the most overwhelming moment in my entire life. I savor the moment as long as I can before I release my lips from John’s. As much as I want to push this as far as I can, I’m still aware that we’re in a public place and John won’t be happy with me if he has to eat his breakfast in wet jeans.

I nudge my head in the direction of the urinals. “Can you handle the boxers yourself?”

John bounces from foot to foot, the delirium washing away and the reality of a full bladder hitting him again. “Technically I could have done it all myself.”

I give him another quick kiss. “Go before the food arrives. There’s nothing worse than cold pancakes.”

John puts a hand over his bladder. He races over to the urinal and laughs. “I can think of one thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm am so sorry I took so long with this chapter. I must have rewritten it a hundred times. I didn't want it to be too sad, because their relationship has a playful energy, but I wanted to show how affected John and Davewere by the attack. I hope I was successful. I'll try and update this on Thursdays from now on. Thank you for all the kudos. I can't believe I almost have 200 on this story. You guys are amazing!


	13. Let's Call This One a Draw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little light hearted chapter.

**John POV**

Dave and I eat our breakfast quickly, hoping to resume our make out session at home, but all that food leaves us more drowsy then turned on. We get to Dave’s house and Bro’s car isn’t in the driveway so we know we have the house to ourselves. That gives us a second wind and we start making out on the couch, but we end up falling asleep halfway through.

I wake up before Dave does and I curl into his warm body. I feel full from breakfast, but my bladder is comfortably empty, so I curl even more into the safety of Dave’s embrace. Dave grumbles something and I realize my hand with the cast is resting on his lower stomach. He’s wearing his shades so I’m not sure if the grumble meant he had answered me in his sleep or if he’s awake. I’m about to apologize and move my hand away, but something about his grumbling makes me wonder.

I press my hand down harder. The weight of the cast against his bladder is more pressure than I could create with my bare hand. He squirms a little more obviously and I’m positive that he has to pee. I’m also positive that he’s pretending to be asleep.

It’s rare that I catch Dave with a full bladder and it’s even rarer that I catch him when my bladder isn’t bursting as well, so I can’t let this opportunity pass. After all the really deep emotional stuff that happened, this is a chance to have a little fun.

I put my good hand on his chest and feel his heart racing. I slide my hand downward slowly and when it rests over his bladder I can feel a thumping very similar to a heartbeat radiating from his swollen bladder.

I lean in close to his ear, with my palm still flat against him and whisper. “One too many refills, huh?”

He laughs, confirming that he was just fake sleeping and I tickle my fingers against Dave’s rarely full bladder. He sits up, shifting me to a more comfortable position on his lap. He runs his thumb along the bruised side of my face and sighs softly. “I’m sorry.”

I bury my head in his shoulder and snuggle against him for a bit. Eventually I break the silence. My voice is muffled against his t-shirt. “You can use the caring boyfriend card as much as you want. I’m still not letting you use the bathroom.”

I feel Dave’s chest rise as he takes a shaky deep breath in, but his words come out calm, cool, and casual. “I need to take a shower. It’s not like I have to pee or anything.”

Dave’s sweatpants are pulled down far enough for his boxers to be exposed, so I slip my hand under the waistband and rub small circles with my fingers against his “empty” bladder.

His body tenses instantly. He clears his throat and I’m pretty sure if I lift off his shades, his eyes are squeezed shut. I pull the elastic waistband of the boxers and let it snap back. He half grimaces, half laughs. “Ahhh, careful John.”

I smirk. “Is Dave Strider ticklish?”

Dave gently moves my hand away from doing any further damage. “I’m a lot of things if you touch the right spot.”

I shift my weight off of his lap and sit next to him on the couch. The exhale of relief he lets out almost makes me tempted to hop back on. I reach for the remote and make sure to lean on his stomach as I reach over to get it.

He moans loudly and I offer the most unapologetic sorry that I’ve even said.

I start to flip through the channels. “Do you have any plans for the day or are we just gonna sit here until you piss you pants.”

I can feel the couch cushion shift underneath us as Dave shifts his weight. “I’m cool. Like I said before, I don’t have to pee. Are you sure that you’re not the one that has to go Jonny?”

I blush, even though I know full well I don’t have to go. The thought of Dave assuming I did sends waves of embarrassment to my presumably red cheeks.

How can Dave be in control of me even with a full bladder? I mean seriously. He has me squirming more than him. It’s just not right.

The man screaming on the TV draws both of our attention. “With the Easy As Tea automatic ice tea maker, you can make delicious iced tea in just minutes. Just add three tea bags to the top of the pitcher like so and then fill the pitcher with water to the fill line. It’s just that easy!”

The infomercial man reaches for jug of water to fill the pitcher and I see Dave’s hand griping the couch cushion. I pounce on this momentary weakness and turn up the volume so that when the water starts to splash into the glass, it literally sounds like we’re at the base of a roaring waterfall.

Dave is still gripping the couch cushion, and his knees are bouncing rapidly.

He grits his teeth as he speaks. “Maybe you could turn the TV down a bit?”

The sound of water almost drowns him out as this awesome infomercial man fills the pitcher as slow as humanly possible.

I pretend like I don’t hear Dave and like this program is the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen.

A lady walks into the frame and smiles. “We need to add a few lemons to this tea for a zesty zing.”

She squeezes a few lemon slices over the pitcher and then drops a handful of them into the water. The lemons tumble into the water with a loud splash and Dave moans as he grabs between his legs squeezing something that’s very different than a lemon.

The man pours the water even slower as the water line approaches the fill line. The water trickles out at such a similar rate as a really good piss that I felt chills and I don’t even have to go.

Dave groans and rocks forward. “Ugh, John…”

I try to look as clueless to Dave’s desperation as I can. “You ok Dave?”

Dave jumps up and crosses his legs as he stands. “I can’t wait much longer.”

I continue to play ignorant. “Yeah, I can’t wait much longer either. This iced tea maker thing is making me so thirty. Let’s get some apple juice from the fridge.”

Dave makes a very uncharacteristic whimpering noise as he walks with me to the kitchen.

I open the fridge as Dave leans against the sink bouncing on his toes.

I hold the cold bottle of apple juice in my hand and smirk. “Looks like someone can’t wait.”

Dave tilts his head back and presses his thighs together as he bends his knees. I know all of the effective pee holding positions for when you’re dying to pee but you don’t want to look too desperate. The one Dave’s doing right now is one of my favorites.

I really do love the guy so I try to give him an option. “I’ll make you a deal. If you can drink this whole glass without peeing your pants, I’ll let you go to the bathroom and this round will be considered a draw. Everyone’s a winner.”

Dave shakes his head. “No deal. I want to win fair and square.”

I put the apple juice bottle on the table. “And how do you expect to win? I don’t have to pee at all so there’s no way I’m going to have to go before you.”

Dave puts a hand behind his head and smiles. “Um, yeah… didn’t really think this one through.”

I can’t help but smile along with him. “So are you going to take the deal?”

Dave keeps his hand behind his head as he crosses his legs. I’ve never seen him this incredibly desperate and I have to admit it’s incredibly hot. He laughs nervously. “I can’t. If I add one more drop of liquid, I’m going to pee right here on the floor.”

I sit down at the kitchen table and tap my fingers against the apple juice bottle. “So what are you going to do?”

Dave sways his hips from side to side. “Dunno.” He balls his hands into fists. “You sure you don’t have to go?”

I smirk. “Positive.” I push my noncasted hand against my bladder to emphasize my point.

Dave grabs himself a little harder and I can tell he’s at the outer limits of control. He leans against the counter again. “This is so odd. You’re usually the one that’s gotta go and I’m the one getting a sick thrill out of it. It just feels so strange to be the urinator.”

I can’t help but laugh. “The urinator? You’re such a loser.”

He nods. “Yeah, I’m about to be an even bigger loser. John, can I have permission to – .”

The front door swings open before he can finish. Bro walks into the house and waves at us. He’s holding the hanger of a really fancy suit in his hands.

Bro holds up the suit. “I just got back from the dry cleaners.”

Dave still has his legs crossed, but I can tell he’s trying to look more casual. He looks at his brother and then the suit. “You going to the prom? I’m all for you trying to pick up chicks, but you might want to steer away from the jailbait.”

Bro smiles. “Nah. My best friend’s getting married tomorrow and I’m going to be his best man. He let me borrow this tux. He even had it washed and everything. You guys should come.”

He looks at me with a slightly confused expression. “Dude, did you have a cast and a busted up face when we met yesterday?”

Dave answers before I can. “He got attacked at the gas station.”

Bro nods. “So sorry man. You want some medicine?”

He reaches into his pocket and offers me a bag of “herbal medicine”.

Dave’s voice sounds gritty, probably from a mix of strain and frustration. “Stop offering my boyfriend drugs.”

Bro’s eyebrows raise into surprised arches. “Boyfriend?”

Dave laughs. “Boyfriend? Nope. I definitely didn’t say boyfriend. John, did I say boyfriend?”

I smile nervously. “Noooo. I heard you say friend, but not boyfriend. Did not hear the word boyfriend.” I smile even harder. “Cause, you know, um… we’re not. Nope. Totally not dating.”

Bro shrugs. “Whatever. Just let me know if you two want to come to a kickin’ wedding. Free food. Free drinks and, um Dave are you ok? You look like you’re about to piss your pants.”

Dave moves his hand away from his crotch, but keeps his legs crossed. “No I’m not.”

Bro laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You have a really obvious twitch when you lie. It’s the same twitch you did when you said John wasn’t your boy toy.”

Dave keeps crossing his legs and bounces a little on his toes. He mutters under his breath. “Maybe I have to go just a little.”

Bro points to the bathroom. “The toilet’s right there. You need an invitation or something?”

Bro turns his attention to me and smiles. “You know, Dave used to do this all the time when he was a little kid. I used to tell him it wasn’t good to hold it, but little Davey used to come home every day about to pee himself. If you ask me I think he liked to hold - .”

Dave punches Bro’s arm while limping to the bathroom. “Dude. Shut up. Can we not do the embarrassing childhood story thing?”

I hear Dave close the door and a muffled grunt of relief comes from behind the door. As much as I love teasing him, I’m actually glad he made it in time and found his happy place. I mean, to be totally honest, he’s the reason I found mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the support and a new chapter will be up next week :D


	14. A Wedding or a Wetting?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fun with John and Dave! It's a really long chapter for you guys!

**Dave POV**

I adjust my tie in front of the mirror and sigh. “How can Bro be a best man? He isn’t even a fairly decent man. He’s more of a ‘not a complete douche but just barely’ type of man.”

John reaches from behind me unknots my tie so he can retie it properly. His eyes focus on the reflection of the tie in the mirror as he makes me look presentable. His one good hand and one jacked up hand are still better at this than my too perfectly good hands. After a bit of primping, I finally look classy enough to sit in the back of a wedding of a guy I don’t know.

I take a good look at myself in the mirror and start to attach my cufflinks. “Will I look like a grade A tool if I keep on my shades?”

John smirks. “I don’t think you’re going to like my answer.”                         

I reach back and pull him a little closer. “You better behave. You’re wearing one of my suits which means I dressed you and I can undress you.”

That was supposed to have an ‘I made you and I can break you’ vibe, but somehow it just sounded strange.

John reaches down and zips up my fly. “I’m not even sure if you can dress yourself, buddy.”

The sound of the zipper gives me chills because, well you know, but John just rolls his eyes. “Anything about desperation gets you off doesn’t it?”

I turn to face John and smirk. “If you go into the bathroom and give the toilet a flush, I’m gonna need a new pair of pants.”

John laughs. “I should really un-boyfriend you right now.”

I take John’s hand (that sounds a bit more romantic than usual since it’s someone’s wedding day) and we both head to the festivities.

We arrive at the wedding a lot earlier than everyone else because Bro needs to help the groom get ready. I’m not sure what Bro’s best friend’s name is, but I think ‘the groom’ is good enough.

We decide to sit in the car for a bit because there is no way Dave Strider ever arrives first to a party.

The soon-to-be-wed couple has chosen a beach style wedding and it’s making me a bit more emotional than I’d like to admit. It’s not hard to imagine me and John in matching penguin suits taking a stab at forever.

I’m actually really glad I’m wearing my shades.

I take a breath to calm down. I know that blocking out the emotions from John’s attack meant that they might pop up at some really inconvenient time and place, but this is the worst time and place for this to happen. If John sees me crying at a wedding, I may never live that down.

A group of people start walking past the car and that’s the signal that we can head over to the venue.

I glance over at John and he looks like he’s wound tighter than I am. Before I can question it, he sighs. “I really hope that guy isn’t here.”

I know exactly what he means when he says ‘that guy’. The thought of John’s attacker being here was the furthest thing from my mind, but there’s a chance he might be. The tears are a little too hard to hold back right now, so I have to pretend like I didn’t hear John.

I unlock the door and focus on looking at the handle instead of John. I take a deep breath and change the subject that I pretend not to have heard in the first place. “You look better in my borrowed suit than I do.”

I can tell John’s smiling even though I’m still looking away.

I exit the car and walk around to open his side for him. I’m a gentleman at least 50% of the time.

We hike across the sand in comfortable silence, until John clears his throat. “Did you notice if we passed a bathroom?”

I stop walking and smirk a little more deviously than I should. “You gotta touch up your make-up?”

John twists his toe from side to side, carving a small indentation in the sand. “I’m not wearing make-up, but I kind of wish I was. A little concealer might cover up the fact that I look like I just got hit by a truck.”

We’re in eyeshot of a few wedding guests so I can’t really touch John the way I want to, so my words will have to do. I keep them low so only John hears. “You’re the hottest piece of man that I’ve ever known. Did you miss the part that I said you look better than me in my suit?”

John shrugs. “Better than you? That’s not saying much. The bar’s set pretty low.”

I punch him playfully on the shoulder. “Hey, at least I’m not dying for a piss at a wedding.”

John smiles unconvincingly. “I’m not dying for a piss.”

His voice goes up a little in pitch on the word ‘piss’ and I can’t help, but smile.

I start to walk toward the chairs with white flowers stuck to them. “Good. This thing could go on for hours.”

John bounces on his toes. “Fine. I really have to go. Like really bad.”

Wow. John gave in quicker than I thought. I guess the prospect of doing a pee dance as the bride walks down the aisle is a bit more embarrassing than admitting to me that he has to go.

I keep my eyes on John and watch him scan the area for a Men’s Room. The way he’s marching in place gives new meaning to ‘the wedding march.’

He looks at me with those desperate eyes that always nearly destroy me. “Dave, I really have to go.”

I’m surprised I hadn’t picked up on the signs much earlier. Either I’m slacking or he’s getting better at hiding it. Is he getting better at holding it? The jury’s still out on that one.

The building that the wedding party is getting ready in is a pretty good distance away, but there’s too many guest here not to have porta potties of some kind nearby. I don’t see the little blue stations of relief anywhere.

John shoves his hands in his pockets and presses his knees together. I’m shocked that he can get the hand with the cast in his pocket, but my suit is a little big on him so I guess that’s why.

To anyone else, he just looks either bored or cold, but I’m one of the few people that know how anxious and hot his full bladder really is.

An usher walks up to us and smiles. “Are you here for the bride or the groom?”

John smiles. “The groom. Um, can you point me in the direction of the nearest Men’s Room? It’s kind of an emergency.”

Good God, that was hot.

The usher looks amused, but not as amused as me. I hope he’s paying more attention to John right now because I’m sure I look like… I’m not even sure I want to know what I look like.

The usher points to the left. “See that sand hill over there? Over the hill is a set of toilets.”

John smiles, “Thank you”, and starts to run in that direction. I follow behind like a puppy chasing a stick.

Running on sand, uphill, with dress shoes isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but I’m sure running in sand, uphill, with dress shoes, and a bursting bladder is worse.

The set of porta potties come into view when we reach the top of the sand hill, but with the view of the toilets comes the view of the massive mob of people around them. There are three porta potties lined up next to each other, but each have a line of at least twenty people in front of them.

John groans as he shoves his hands back into his pockets and hunches over. “Why is there always a line?”

I try to ease his panic as he straightens up and walks to the end of a line. “You’ve got this. You’ve had to go worse than this right?”

John bounces his knees. “That pep talk doesn’t help as much as much as you think it does.”

The line we’re on has a mom with a little girl in front of us, and I’m guessing that’s why John’s just shifting his weight instead of holding himself. I stand in front of him to try and block him so he can give himself a squeeze without shattering the innocent mind of a child, but when I move, it draws the little girl’s attention.

She pulls her mom’s sleeve. “Mommy. That guy has to go pee pee really bad.”

John blushes redder than I’ve seen him blush in a while. I’m sure he wants to play it off like he doesn’t have to go, but since John’s the unluckiest guy in the world a really bad urge slams into his bladder. He crosses his legs and hunches over.

The girl’s mother turns to face John. “Are you alright?”

The little girl must get that inappropriate urge to bother people that are desperate to go and just want to be left alone from her mother.

John manages to squeak out an “I’m ok”. I can feel the second hand embarrassment practically pouring out of him.

The mother offers a motherly “I’m sure it won’t be much longer”. She moves her daughter in front of her and keeps her facing forward so John has as much privacy as possible to do his pee dance.

John rests his cast between his legs and sighs. A few people from other lines have noticed John’s predicament. His eyes are closed, but the blush on his face gives me a slight hint that he might know his desperation isn’t much of a secret anymore.

Just then the sound of an organ draws everyone’s attention to the direction of the wedding set up. Everyone starts to clear off the line and John opens his eyes. His eyes dart to the clear path to relief, but the little girl grabs his non casted hand and drags him away. “C’mon. The wedding is starting.”

I’m sure this little munchkin doesn’t have the strength of the Incredible Hulk and if John pulled back he could prevent getting pulled away from the toilet, but we’re both thrown off guard. By the time either of us realizes that John’s potty break has been cancelled, we’re back at the chairs with flowers glued to them.

The little girl and her mom walk toward chairs in the front, and thankfully John is able to disconnect her hand from his wrist at this point.

John sits in the last row and crosses his legs tight. “Don’t pretend like this isn’t a dream come true for you.”

I sit down and fold my hands on my lap… cuz it kind of is. I do feel a little bad, though. Desperation games are best played in a less public place. The last thing I want is for John to be embarrassed. I’m a little kinky and a bit of a jerk, but I’m not a complete jerk off.

The organ is still playing the pre-wedding march crap so I make the decision that a whispered conversation isn’t rude. “We don’t know any of these people. We don’t have to stay. If you really have to go, we can go.”

John bounces in his chair. “I should have peed before we left, but I figured I could go when we got here. I though this wedding was going to be in building. You know, with four walls and a bathroom.”

 I’m not sure what to say to make this better, but I don’t get the chance to because the wedding march starts to play.

Everyone stands and I can hear John’s beautiful whines of desperation under the beautiful music. I try to focus on anything other than him. A wedding is the last place on Earth that I want to getting fully turned on at. John continues to whine softly and I can tell he’s squirming behind me.

I focus on the bride, cuz the groom might be kind of hot and it’s not gonna take much at this point.

We are told to sit and I’m about to, but John must have reached his maximum capacity and bolts from his chair.

Luck is on his side for once, and everyone seems too focused on the bride and the groom to notice John racing to toilet or me running after him. Desperation must have given him a boost of marathon speed and I can barely keep up.

I’m not sure if I’m invited to John’s epic pee show, but I’m not fully sure if I’m invited to this wedding either.

John makes it over the sand hill, put not much further. He stops and I almost crash right into him. He grabs between his legs and moans. “Dave…. can’t move… ugh…”

I’m hoping the ‘ugh’ is more of an I’m-going-to-pee sound rather than an I’m-already-peeing sound. I move his hand away from his crotch and unzip him as quickly as I can. The fact that there isn’t a puddle in the sand or that his zipper isn’t wet, leads me to believe that I might be able to avoid a really awkward trip to the dry cleaners when John returns the suit.

I yank down his boxers and pants in one quick motion and I get out of the way just in time.

He had held it longer than I would have ever pushed him to and I’m pretty sure he’s in a little pain at this point. I rub his bladder and feel it twitching under my palm as John empties far more liquid then he should have ever held back.

I continue to rub circles against the swollen burden that John is releasing at fire hose intensity. The pee is shooting out of him so fast that it’s pooling on the surface of the sand instead of being absorbed.

I’m holding John so I can actually feel when the tension releases from his body and the peeing switches over from discomfort to pure joy. His weight sinks against me and we both enjoy the remainder of his ordeal.

When he finally finishes I pull up and zip his pants. He smiles sheepishly at me as he tries to catch his breath.

I smirk at my unbelievably hot boyfriend. “So you really did have to go pee pee.”

John groans. “Can I just have a second that I don’t feel completely mortified? Is that too much to ask?”

I give him a kiss and since no one is around I let my lips linger on his for a while. Eventually he laughs against my lips. “We need to get back. I think it’s a little tacky to be making out during the vows.”

I rub my hand against the back on his neck. “Says the guy that almost - .”

John puts his hand over my mouth. “What did I say about feeling mortified?”

I nod since his hand is preventing me from vocalizing a response.

He keeps his hand over my mouth. “Good. Now let’s go back and see those two complete strangers get married.”

I mumble against his hand. He looks at me slightly confused and I move his hand. “I need to use the toilet first.”

John laughs. “You have to take a leak?”

I blush. “Not exactly.”

I shift my weight trying to conceal the reason that I need a little private time in the bathroom. John glances down and smiles. “Go. I’m not a sadistic jerk that makes people wait when they’re uncomfortable.”

I stand in the doorway of the porta potty and turn to face him, prolonging relief just a bit longer to make sure he’s joking. “You don’t think I’m a sadistic jerk, right?”

John shakes his head. “Of course not. Besides, I wouldn’t have held it so many times if I didn’t like it a little too.”

I squirm in the doorway because saying things like that isn’t helping my situation at all. “You really mean that Babe?”

John makes me happier than the bride and groom when he says those famous two words.

“I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all you who have read and supported this little fic so far and to all the first time readers, thanks for giving it a chance. Please continue to let me know what you think, good or bad, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I'm friendly, I promise :D


	15. Sometimes the Wrong Move Leads to a Better Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's wedding season so I needed to write at least two chapters about one :)

**John POV**

I knock back the rest of my appletini, minus the tini. Technically it’s just apple juice in a fancy glass. I’m on too many painkillers for my broken hand to even think about drinking alcohol.

The wedding reception is being held outside on the beach, just like the wedding. I’m sitting at a beachside bar with a martini glass in my hand. I feel more like I’m at some kind of tropical island taking a relaxing vacation with Dave.

Right on cue, Dave staggers over to put his arm around me.

I smile at a beyond drunk Dave. “It’s good to see that you paced yourself, Babe.”

Dave lifts his shades for a minute and smiles at me. “Have I ever told you that you are the best sex I’ve ever had?”

I take a quick glance around to see if any of the other guests at the reception had heard him before answering. “Yup a few times today. The drunker you get the louder you say it.”

Dave laughs. “I’m not drunk…. I’m wasted.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You were wasted four drinks ago. Now you’re approaching I’m-embarrassed-to-be-seen-with-you territory.”

Dave pouts his lip out. “Don’t be mad. It’s an open bar. They’re offering free drinks.”

I sigh. “That doesn’t mean you have to be the one to drink all of them.”

Dave smiles. “I did drank a whole mini bar once, but I think a whole full size bar is a bit much, even for me.” His smile disappears for a minute. “Am I really embarrassing you?”

I shake my head and smile. “No. I’m just teasing you. It’s actually kind of nice to see you laid back for once. You’re always so guarded with your feelings. I was starting to wonder if you even had the ability to relax. Besides, if anyone’s a total embarrassment, it’s me. I almost pissed my pants in front of all these wedding quests.”

Dave nods as he reaches for his zipper. “Yeah, speaking of piss - .”

I quickly move Dave’s hand from his zipper. “Dude, you can’t just go right here. Everyone can see you.”

Dave whines as he crosses his legs. “I gotta go.”

He’s a little too intoxicated to balance his weight on one leg, so when he crosses them, he tilts to the side, nearly falling. I reach out to try and keep him on his feet until he finds his balance, but I only have one good arm at my disposal.

He uncrosses his legs, giving him more stable footing and replaces the leg crossing method of holding it in with the hands between the legs method.

He grunts. “John, I gotta take a leak real bad.”

I nod. “Ok, just hold it till we get away from the crowd.”

I lead him away from the party and toward the porta-potties. I’m not sure why this event refuses to have bathrooms nearby, but for once Dave’s on the short end of the stick instead of me.

His voice calls out from behind me. “Jooohn, can I go here?”

I turn around to see him grabbing himself and swaying his hips from side to side. It’s odd to see Dave this open about having to go. I so hope he remembers this tomorrow, but there’s a good chance he won’t. There’s an even better chance that he will remember, but pretend that he doesn’t.

Either way, I won’t be able to tease him about his desperate potty dance.

Dave dances a little faster and asks again. “John, can I go here?”

I know that if Dave was sober right now, he would do anything in his power to avoid peeing outside. He would only do it as a last resort. It’s difficult to tell if Dave is really about to wet his pants or if he’s just too drunk to know that his bladder can hold out for another hour easily.

I take a guess that making him wait till we reach the bathroom is doable. I wave for him to follow. “We’re almost there. Just hold it a little longer.”

Dave whines as we continue our journey to relief.

Relief comes into view shortly, but unfortunately relief is in the form of one porta potty with a guy waiting outside of it. We stand behind the guy, but Dave doesn’t stand still. He marches in place, still gripping his groin. He quickly switches from marching in place to marching in a circle.

It’s obvious that Dave is dying for a leak and at first I think the guy ahead of us is going to let Dave skip ahead of him. Sadly, when Dave starts to dance in place more furiously, the guy ahead of us crosses his arms over his chest. He bends one leg and then the other with a quick enough pace to signal he has to go pretty badly too.

The guy gives me a slight nod of understanding and turns back around. He’s wearing a white shirt and suspenders. He even has a bowtie. He must be an usher or something. Hopefully he’s not a friend of Bro. If this story reaches Bro, Dave will never hear the end of it.

All three of us fidget in line as we wait. I may not have to pee, but I’m just as anxious for this line to move as the other two. I hear Dave make a whimpering noise and I can’t help, but wince. I’m pretty sure I’m officially the most anxious right now.

I’m about to pull Dave off the line to let him pee behind a nearby tree. At this point I think that move would be more dignified than letting him bounce up and down like… well, like me.

Before I can make a move, the door opens and Dave is first in line. I try to block Dave’s obvious desperation dance from the guy that just got out, but he doesn’t really look in our direction. As he walks away I try to reassure Dave. “Just a little longer Dave.”

Dave’s answer is a ‘no’ that sounds more like a grunt. The second time he says no, it sounds more troubled.

I turn to face him and realize he’s not talking to me. His hands are still sandwiched tightly between his legs, but there’s an obvious circle of dampness under his clenched fists.

I’m not sure if slowly pissing his pants causes him to sober up a bit, but he seems a lot more like the old Dave.

As if totally messing this situation up by misreading his level of desperation wasn’t bad enough, the stupidest thing comes out of my mouth. “Dave you’re not pissing your pants are you?”

Dave grunts. “Yup. Think that’s what’s happening here.”

I put my hand on his back and I feel just how much he’s trembling. At this point I realize that he’s still attempting (successfully) to hold back the majority of the flood. A few leaks are pushing past, but he hasn’t quite saturated more than the crotch of his pants at this point.

He moves his hand to try and undo his zipper, but the lack of pressure against the exit causes a pretty strong leak to squirt out. Somehow, he stops it and tries to unzip. He’s either still too cloudy from the alcohol to get the zipper down or too desperate to pee to focus. After a few unsuccessful attempts I push his hand away and try and do it myself.

The zipper is slick with all of Dave’s urine and I can’t get it down with just one hand.

Dave’s doing the same bending alternate knees that the guy ahead of us was doing, but Dave is doing it so fast that I can’t get a good grip on the zipper.

Dave whines. “John, hurry. I’m close.”

That sentence usually makes me feel an entirely different way.

I move my hand with the cast to try and help, but it’s the wrong move. My cast bumps against Dave’s bladder and he lets out a strangled moan.

He staggers back as far away from me as he can and then the impossible happens.

Dave Strider pees his pants.

He's probably never done this in his life. Ever.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the start of his involuntary pee coordinates to the second with the guy in the porta-potty exiting.

A good boyfriend would turn Dave around to hide some of the embarrassment.

The fact that this happened in the first place proves I’m a terrible boyfriend.

The fact that I stand helplessly staring as Dave continues to pee his pants in front of me and a complete stranger proves I’m a terrible friend.

The fact that the guy that just walked out of the bathroom offers an encouraging “Dude it happens to the best of us” before I offer any encouragement proves I’m a terrible human being.

The guy turns his attention to me. “If you have to use the restroom, I can watch your friend for you.”

I had been really anxious on line before. I probably looked like I was dying for a leak too.

As much as I would like to lock myself in the bathroom and pretend that this isn’t happing, I would never leave Dave’s side. No matter how useless my help is.

I shake my head. “I’m all good.”

Dave smirks. “Good to know that my epic humiliation registers as all good.”

I smile back. “Looks like someone’s sobering up fast.”

Dave winces. “I should. I’m literally pissing it all out right now.”

I’m a little thrown by how accurate his statement is. I look down and see the puddle growing under him. His pants are soaked completely, but they’re black so it’s not that obvious. The stream of urine still pouring out of him is really obvious though.

Dave’s eyes are behind those shades so I can’t tell if he’s looking at me or just in my direction, but his smirks confirms he’s looking at me. I wouldn’t expect him to be this casual about this, so I’m wondering if he's still a little buzzed.

That doesn’t stop me from teasing him. “You shouldn’t talk to people when you pee. It’s considered ill mannered.”

Dave laughs, causing his stream to stutter a bit. He blushes as it increases back to full intensity. “I thought talking with your mouth full was the rude thing.”

I smirk. “You do that too.”

Dave laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself. My mouth is far from full.”

I flip him off. “Screw you.”

Dave raises an eyebrow. “While I’m peeing? You’re a sick boy Jonny.”

I laugh. “You judgmental troll.”

The guy that I forgot was standing there interrupts the conversation that I thought was private. “It’s nice to meet you John.” He looks at Dave and smiles. “And you are?”

Dave’s face is as red as mine probably is. We haven’t really done the PDA stuff yet, so this conversation was totally not meant to be heard by a third person. I guess we can blame Dave’s lapse in judgement on being drunk, but me? I guess I’m living up to that worst boyfriend in the world title.

Dave snaps at the guy. “Who am I? Who are you, douchebag?”

I know from experience that when Dave is embarrassed he gets really defensive.

The guy looks slightly confused and answers sheepishly. “Um, I’m Tim. I’m the groom.”

Dave clears his throat. “Oh.”

I step in quickly. “It was a beautiful wedding.”

Tim smiles. “That means a lot coming from guys like you.”

I’m not sure if I should be happy or offended, but we kind of just admitted we crashed his wedding and Dave got so drunk he peed his pants, so I guess I can let it slide.

Dave mumbles. “Yeah, it was beautiful. Sorry I called you a douchebag.”

I smirk. “Wow, I thought Dave Strider never apologizes.”

Dave gives me a death stare that I can almost see through his shades.

Tim grins. “Strider? You must be Bro’s brother. That explains a lot. I should have known from the sunglasses. It was nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the wedding. If there’s anything you need let me know. Bro’s my best friend so Bro’s bro is like a bro to me.”

As I watch him walk away I can’t help but wonder if Bro’s name is really Bro.

When Tim is a good distance away, Dave sighs. “So are you just gonna stand there?”

I turn to face him. “I wasn’t sure if you were done. Are your pants dripping or are you still going?”

I know my comment might have been a little snarky, but I thought we were still teasing each other. I would have never dreamed it would cause Dave to start crying, so I’m not exactly sure what to do when he does.

He wipes the tear that slips passed his shades with the back of his hand. I could pretend like I didn’t see it, but another one rolls down his cheek before he can stop it.

Before I can respond, he does. “I’m not crying.”

I shrug. “I didn’t say you were.”

He sniffs. “I didn’t pee myself either.”

I smirk. “That might be a harder one to sell.”

Dave punches me on the shoulder. “Jerk.”

I put my arm around him as we walk over to the ocean, to cover up his accident. Drunk people fall into fountains all the time so it’s not that much of a stretch if we say he got too close to the edge of the shore and fell.

Just a few steps away from the ocean, Dave pulls my hand. “I don’t think we can put a dry-clean only suit in salt water.”

His face adopts that red color that I’m not used to. He sighs. “We should go home, but I don’t really want to sit in my car when my suit’s still wet. My freakin’ socks and shoes are soaked.”

I kick off my own socks and shoes. “Then let’s move the party to right here until you...” I don’t really know a less embarrassing way to put it other than ‘dry off’ so I just let him finish the sentence off in his head.

He kicks off his socks and shoes and rinses his hands in the water. He grabs me by the waist, and I almost fall since he catches me off guard. I can hear the slow dance music from the party in the distance.

Dave places my casted hand on his shoulder and whispers. “Just don’t get too close. My pants aren’t dry and I don’t want to ruin your suit.”

I smile. “Technically it’s your suit. I just look better in it. Your words, not mine.”

He takes the lead as we dance. Our ability to dance is so bad that it’s more stumbling in the sand than anything close to graceful, but it’s _our_ dance and I think it’s just perfect. Even if Dave did have to take a break to throw up a few times. And even if each time he turned away to do it I held his waist so he wouldn’t face plant into the sand.

For the first time I’m starting to imagine our lives… our future… our wedding. I wonder if we’ll invite Tim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this one. Desperate John is still my favorite, but I wanted to give Dave another moment to shine. Thanks for all the comments and kudos and other acts of kindness. I'll be back next Thursday with another chapter starring these two dudes :)


	16. Sometimes Worktime is the Best Time to Play

**Dave POV**

I stare at the blinking cursor on the computer screen and feel the life draining out of me. I’ve been at work for a grand total of five minutes and already I want to jump out of a window.

I have to send an email to Beth from human resources about why I deserve a raise. I really don’t deserve one and I can’t think of a good enough lie to say I do.

I type in the words slowly

_Dear Beth;_

_Give me more money. If you don’t I will hack into your bank account and steal all of yours._

I click send and go back to wasting time instead of doing the work that would qualify me for a raise. I scroll through my phone, checking messages and a text pops up from John. It’s the yellow smiley face emoji with the sunglasses. Next to it is the message: I was told that Dave Strider doesn’t smile, but this right here is proof that he does.

I smirk as I send a message back.

_That’s not me. If you want me to send you a real selfie it won’t be of my face._

Before this momentary second of happiness continues, it’s destroyed when I hear Bill’s annoying voice. “Hey Don. How are you today, buddy?”

Not only is my name not Don (or any other various D name he thinks of), I’m also not his buddy.

I really wish he would go away, but the giant smile on his face makes me positive that he has something to say. I’d put 100 bucks on the fact that it’s something I could care less about.

I really want to punch him in the face, but I keep the conversation rolling. “I’m fan- freakin’-tastic Billy boy. How are you?”

Bill sits on the edge of my desk. “I’m good. I’m really good.”

Oh God. He’s going to drag this out.

Bill picks up the employee of the month mug that I’m using as a pencil holder. It’s not actually my mug. I lifted it from, well I’m not exactly sure who, but apparently they were the employee of the month at one time.

I sigh. “What do you want?”

Bill smiles. “So word on the street is that you have a new boyfriend.”

The street? Really Bill?

I snatch the mug back from him and shake my head. “That’s not what your mother said last night.”

Bill frowns. “My mother died two years ago.”

Well this is awkward. Your mother jokes are always pretty inappropriate, but ‘I was sarcastically banging your dead mom’ is way over the line.

I mumble. “Sorry man.”

Bill punches me on the arm. “No worries. You can make it up to me.”

Wait what? Dude, I’m sorry and all, but I don’t legitimately owe you anything. It’s just an expression.

The smile returns to Bill’s face. “So today is Susan’s birthday…”

Who that heck is Susan? If this tool thinks my name is Don, then maybe Susan isn’t even the name of the chick he’s talking about.

Bill continues. “… and we’re throwing a company party for her at the end of the day. I have all these things to do because I’m such a busy guy you know with all the home improvements I’m getting done that cost so much money, but it's totally worth it because I make so much money…”

If he doesn’t get to the point soon I’m going to stab him in the neck. With a pencil. Repeatedly.

Bill drones on for an unbearable amount of time bragging about his salary, his cars, his house, his giant pool, his wife, and his 2.5 kids. That’s right, 2.5. Bill’s little misses is preggers and has another little demon spawn bun in the oven.

I can’t take it anymore and finish asking the favor for him. “The party's at the end of the day and you want me to cover for you so you can leave early, right?”

Bill smiles. “That’s exactly right. So can you do me a solid and cover for me?”

I don’t think anyone will really notice Bill’s playing hooky, but I’m more than happy to use the excuse ‘Bill’s in the bathroom snorting coke’ in the offhand chance that some asks about him.

I smirk. “Sure Bill. I’ll cover for you.”

The fake smile on his face broadens even further. “Great! Well, I gotta run. I need to use the Men’s room. I think I drank too much coffee this morning.”

Desperation is my thing, but the thought of a desperate Bill is just horrifying. I must immediately scrub that mental picture from my mind.

For the rest of the day, I decrypted some code, sent more inappropriate extortion emails to human resources (thankfully Beth gets my sarcasm), and signed a giant ‘Happy Birthday from all of us” card. All in all, a pretty productive day.

An email alert pops up on my phone reminding me that the party is in a half hour. I close my eyes and wonder how I can engage my brain to stay awake that long. When I open my eyes again, I see John standing in the doorway. I clear my throat. “Can I help you?”

John leans against the doorway. “I’ve never been inside of your office. I wanted to check it out.”

I lean back in my chair. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs working?”

John laughs. “So apparently looking like I got hit by a bus lets me get away with whatever I want. Whenever someone looks at me they’re all ‘Oh my God. Are you ok? Do you need a break? You gotta take it easy. You poor thing.’ It’s been like that all day. They even let me leave early. So I headed up here to see you and when I got off the elevator, some woman invited me to a birthday party. I was like ‘heck yeah’. We don’t have cake and stuff downstairs.”

He sits in the seat across from me. The one person that I don’t mind sitting on the edge of my desk doesn’t. Fortunately, sitting across from me gives me a view of his hand resting between his legs.

I wink at John and keep my voice low since the walls are kind of thin. “Gotta take a leak?”

John moves his hand quickly (not quick enough buddy) and blushes. “I don’t always have to use the bathroom.”

I put my elbows on the desk and lean forward. “That’s not exactly a no.”

John looks behind him at the open door and then back at me. “We are so not going to do this right now.”

I whisper. “If you let me see a quick crotch grab, I’ll give you an extra slice of cake.”

John rests his hand on his thigh, inches away from his junk. “What will a moan and bouncing my knees get?”

This suddenly became to best day of work ever. John continues to tease me with the idea that he has to go without actually saying it and I’m glad my lower half is obscured by my desk. At a certain point I have to reference back to the idea of Bill being desperate for the toilet to prevent myself from having getting a little too excited. Technically, I'm still on the clock.

John shifts in his seat and I can hear the wood of the chair creaking in response. The wheels of my own chair squeak as his subtle desperate motions cause my knee to bounce up and down in a nervous fashion.

John finally crosses his legs and leans forward. “I need you to help me with something. It’s a little difficult unzipping and unbuttoning with one working hand so I’ve kind of been putting off a trip to the toilet.”

My eyes double in size. Thank goodness I have the shades. I want to scream ‘John WTF?! You haven't gone for a piss all day?’, but I settle on a casual “mm hmm” instead.

John clears his throat. “Um, so can you help me, you know…”

I raise an eyebrow. “Help you release the beast?”

John smiles, but winces ever so slightly. I think his bladder is a little too full for jokes.

I’m fairly confident that John isn’t bursting to the point of pain and we haven’t had a real holding game in a while so…

John must be reading my mind because he backpedals quickly. “Actually, never mind. I can hold it till the party’s over.”

I crack my knuckles because I need some way to release all of this sexual tension. “The bathroom here is pretty gross. You should probably wait to pee until you get home. You know, unless you can’t hold it.”

John smiles. “Yeah, but I live alone so I still might need help unzipping. You want to come over? You could, like, spend the night if you want.”

I nod. “I want.”

John’s shivers as he presses his hands down harder in his lap. I can tell there’s something important he wants right now too.

The email alert goes off signaling that it’s partytime. John stands up slowly, lifting himself from his chair with one arm. For a split second his hand grazes his crotch to hold himself, but that competitive little fire that I love so much about him causes him to forgo a full squeeze.

I force myself to stop staring at my desperate boyfriend’s crotch. I don’t want to, but I have to fake some level of professionalism at work.

John and I stroll down the hallway to the conference room, but John’s stroll turns into more of a limp. He must see me staring at him, because he mumbles. “My leg fell asleep.”

He must think my brain fell asleep as well if he expects me to believe that. I let it slide as I slide my hand slow down his thigh. “A little rubbing helps wakes it up.”

John pushes my hand away. “Someone’s a little bold at work.”

I smirk. “You’d be surprised at what I get away with here. You sure you can hold it?”

John uncrosses his legs. I must have made him feel a little self-conscious. “Yeah, I got this. Piece of cake.”

I nod. “Since you mentioned cake, let’s get a slice.”

This is going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be twice as long, but I wanted to switch to John's POV for the second half. I hope I didn't end it too abruptly. There's something about Desperate John at the office that I like so I had to squeeze in another chapter (or two). Thanks for all the great comments and kudos. This is the only story that I don't really have a defined plot so it's been fun to see were the story is taking me. Dave and John are literally telling me which direction to go and it's kind of awesome. Hopefully they don't steer the story right off of a cliff lol. If that happens, you guys will let me know and I'll use that magical delete chapter button and we'll pretend like it never happened :D Thanks again for everything and I'll see you next Thursday!


	17. It Takes Two to Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can John hold it until he gets to a toilet? I think we're all hoping the answer is no :D

**John POV**

Ok, I’ve had to pee worse than this before. I can do this. Would this be easier if I didn’t have to hold in a truckload of pee, in front of a room full of people, while hiding the fact that I’m bursting? Yeah, maybe a little, but I can use the fact that failure means wetting myself in front of everyone as motivation.

I so should have peed before. I so so soooo should have peed before.

Dave goes to get me a slice of cake. I actually don’t realize I’m next to the watercooler until I hear that weird bubbly gurgling sound that coolers make when you try to dispense water.

As the water hisses out into the paper cup, I balance one foot on the other and bend my knees. This stance isn’t too suspicious next to a watercooler, right? I’m sure that I don’t look like a man who’s about to pee his pants.

I want to cross my legs and race out of the room, but I can’t. I know how hot Dave finds this. I can hold out until I get home.

I close my eyes as I hear the guy dispensing what seems like the entire watercooler into the cup. I have no choice but to cross my legs at this point, and I hope I still look like I’m chilling casually next to the watercooler.

The guy continues dispensing liquid temptation and the sound of hissing water in my ear is replaced with the sound of Dave’s voice. “The cake is chocolate with vanilla icing and strawberry filling. There are these strawberries randomly jammed on the top, so I got you a slice with a strawberry. Susan’s name is written on the cake too, so your piece not only has a strawberry, but it has the letter S. I’m awesome. I know. You’re welcome.”

I shiver when he says the letter S. It sounds way too close to the hissing sound of pee.

Ok, we’re approaching endgame for me.

Out of nowhere, a massive urge rocks through my bladder and I moan way louder than I should in a crowded room.

A few curious eyes settle on me and I moan again. I want to hold myself so bad, but it’s way too socially awkward to even attempt it. I may not work upstairs with these people, but I do work in the same company and news of a grown man doing the potty dance will travel fast in a company like this.

Thankfully Dave pulls the plug on this before I have to. He talks loud enough for the onlookers to hear. “He’s on a lot of painkillers, but they must be wearing off.”

That seems like a good enough explanation for everyone because I quickly cease from being the center of attention.

Dave holds two plates of cake, one in each hand, and motions at the door with his head. “Let’s split. We got our free cake. We can eat it at your place.”

We slip out of the room and race to my car. I’m not sure if Dave decides to ride with me because it’s easier to take one car, or if it’s because he doesn’t want to miss a second of my desperation show.

As I pull out of the parking lot and merge onto the road, I instantly regret being the driver. I can easily maneuver the wheel with one hand, but I don’t have the option to hold myself with the other.

I start to rock in my seat and whine. “Dave? A little assistance here?”

Dave shoves his hand between my legs and squeezes with a little too much gusto.

My voice squeaks because the vice grip he’s got on my junk turns me into a soprano. “Ahhh… Babe. Not so hard. You’re damaging the merchandise.”

He eases up a little and I relax. Not too much though. His firm grip is between my legs and it isn’t the best idea to relax into it.

The commute home usually takes about 20 minutes, but today I make it in 8. Thankfully there were no cops on the road because a one armed guy doing 90 on the highway is a traffic ticket waiting to happen.

I slam on the breaks as I pull into the parking garage of my apartment complex. I replace Dave’s hand with mine as I successfully block off my bladder’s only exit.

I hobble into the elevator and back up against the rail. I pitch all the way forward and grunt out “5”. The elevator doors close, so I’m guessing that Dave understood my grunt and pushed the floor five button.

Dave’s voice bounces off the walls of the metal elevator. “Wouldn’t it suck if the elevator broke down?”

My voice is muffled as I’m still bent all the way forward with my hand jammed between my legs. “Why? You have to take a leak, Dave?”

I technically haven’t admitted that I’m dying to take a leak, so why fess up now?

Dave laughs all the way to the fifth floor over that, and he’s still laughing as we approach the door.

I keep my hand between my legs and straight up. “The keys are in my right pocket.”

Dave liberates the keys from my pocket. He jiggles the keys in the lock as I jiggle my legs. A locked door is screwing with my mind. More accurately, it’s screwing with my bladder. The pulsing is so bad that I squeeze my eyes shut trying to push past the discomfort. I’m not in pain because I’m on a buttload of painkillers, but the pressure is cataclysmic.

I hear the click of the lock opening and feel the breeze of the door swinging open. Dave guides me inside, because my eyes are still closed and I hear the door shut behind me.

I lean against the door and take a breath to steady myself. The fact that I’m in my house eases the nervous adrenaline in my system causing the intense pressure in my bladder from to shift from critical to manageable.

Dave sees my body relax and I think he assumes that relaxation equals seconds away from peeing myself. In a mad dash to save my dignity he flicks my waistband button open and yanks my zipper down like my pants are on fire.

He shimmies my work pants down to my ankles. I stumble a little and lean on him as he lifts my feet off of the floor, one at a time, and pulls off my shoes. Dave continues to disrobe my lower half with racecar pit crew speed. Before I can say anything I’m down to just gray boxer-briefs and my polo work shirt.

His hand starts to pull at the waistband of my boxers, but I angle my hips away so he can’t fully strip me naked from the waist down.

I cross my legs (because I still really have to go) and shake my head. “I’m good Babe. I can hold it until I get to the bathroom.”

Dave follows as I limp across my apartment to the bathroom. I actually have two bathrooms, but the one that’s connected to my bedroom is closer.

We cross through my bedroom to get to the toilet and I look at all the clothes I have just thrown in piles on the floor. I really should have given more thought to inviting Dave over. I kick a few balled up shirts out of my path and I stand under the threshold of the room I’ve been waiting hours to use.

Dave wraps his arms around me from the back, resting his head on my shoulder. He whispers in my ear. “You want me to help you aim?”

I shift my weight from foot to foot, rocking him along with me. “Dave, I have to pee so bad.”

Dave moves his head off of my shoulder to kiss my neck. His response buzzes against my skin. “Mm hmm.”

I spin around to face him and I lift his shades off.

It only takes a fraction of a second before his lips are on mine and his hand is around my waist. He backs me up against the bathroom counter.

I’m not coordinated enough to hop up on the counter with one hand, so he puts both hands on my waist and hoists me up there himself. His hands feel cold, even through the fabric of my shirt.

He kisses me a little more aggressively and it feels so good. He moves my knees apart so he can pull me in close, but my bladder’s not a fan of the new position. My brain tells me to move Dave from between my legs so I can put my hand there, but my body urges me to keep Dave right where he is.

I ignore what my brain tells me to do, but I feel my legs trembling against Dave’s waist. The deep moan that comes from the back of Dave’s throat makes me pretty sure he’s aware of my trembling thighs too.

He trails his hand under my shirt and when his fingertips reach my bulging abdomen, I can’t help but gasp. His hands are so freakin’ cold.

He moves his lips from mine just long enough to say, “You like that?”

I manage to squeeze a hand between Dave’s body and my crotch, but my thighs are still shaking on both sides of him. I stutter. “D-Dave, I-I-I ha-have t-to –.”

He moves away to give me a little clearance to hop off of the counter, but it’s a little too late. I feel a hot leak dampen my underwear, turning the fabric around the crotch an achingly embarrassing darker shade of gray. I can feel my face heating up to a darker shade of red as the warm contents of my bladder continue to push out of me and down my leg.

I try to force the accidental stream to stop so that I can scoot off of the counter and pee in a place more appropriate than my underwear. Unfortunately holding it for so longer has weakened my muscles too much to attempt a complicated feat like that. Instead my hold completely gives out and the gusher keeps on gushing with twice the intensity.

Dave is standing a polite distance away from me, but I know he wants to stand closer to comfort me.

Dave told me once that he loves to get me right to the edge of desperation. He loves that moment when I’ve reached my limit and then I can pee in the toilet. It’s kind of like, he gets what he wants and then I get the sweet relief I want. He never asks me to tip the scale and wet myself, but he’s understanding if it does happen.

My body shudders and I whine as the feeling of desperation continues to course through my body. I haven’t let out enough to calm the pulsing in my bladder yet.

Dave puts a hand on my bladder. “Are you in pain?”

My voice wavers because the rest of my body is shaking like a leaf. “Not… pain… just… pressure…”

Dave runs soothing circles against my internal water balloon until there’s nothing left for me to piss out.

I push the last spurt out as well as a sigh. “You can’t imagine how amazingly awesome that felt.”

Dave smirks. “It wasn’t too shabby on this end either J.”

The warm puddle of relief that I’m sitting in is starting to turn into a cold puddle of humiliation. A shower is something I need in my very immediate future.

Dave’s gaze shifts from me to the his shades that I took off earlier. They are sitting on the floor in broken pieces. The frames are jacked well past the point of repair and one of the lenses is a few inches away in shattered shards.

I’m wearing nothing but socks and underwear so I’m pretty sure that if I had stepped on them I would have felt it. I apologize anyway. “I’m so sorry. Let me take a quick shower and we’ll go over to the mall. I think there’s a sunglass store. We can grab some dinner while we’re out too.”

Dave kneels down and picks up the broken pieces slowly. “I guess it was time for a new pair anyway.”

I wince. “Are you mad at me?”

Dave looks at me with those gorgeous eyes that I rarely get to see and winks. “Only if you don’t let me join you in the shower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for continuing to stick around for my Homestuck omo adventure! I love you all and I'll see you next week :D Feel free to leave a comment if you have any questions or suggestions or just want to say hi.


	18. You, Me, and a Power Saw... You In?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's cast comes off!

**Dave POV**

The next few weeks were an adjustment for both me and John. For me, the adjustment was seeing the world through dollar store shades. The designer pair I normally wear are on the six-to-eight week delivery plan, cuz I didn’t want to sell my soul plus a kidney for overnight shipping. John had assured me many times that I still look like sex on a sandwich, but that sweet piece of tail has lied to me in the past so he can’t be trusted.

John’s adjustment involved his cast. He had finally gained enough hand-crotch coordination to unzip his jeans with one hand and take care of business, but whenever my hands were close by he wouldn’t refuse the assistance.

So, John and I had spent those “newlywed” weeks of our boyfriend relationship sleeping over at each other’s houses, making out for hours, or just playing videogames till John would lose and I would proceed to rub it in his face.

Today; however, is a day that both of us have been looking forward to for a long time.

I hold up the tiny electrical saw in my hand. “You ready to crack this piñata open and have a party?”

John gives me a tentative smile. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

I turn the saw on and off a few times filling the room with a series of reassuring buzzes. Turning a tool on and off totally means I’m a master at using it. “Relax. You want that cast off right?”

John nods. “Yeah, but I should probably let the doctor do it.”

I sigh. “We’ve been through this before. I am more than prepared for the looming Zombie apocalypse that will no doubt occur during our lifetime. I have not only outfitted my house to be a bunker in case of nuclear radiation or global warfare, but I also have a three year supply of food and water. Furthermore, I have a vast knowledge of basic first aid. The number one goal of a disaster prepper is to be prepared for any kind of disaster. I’m a soldier of survival and every soldier needs to know how to keep his men alive during the dog days of war. ”

John raises an eyebrow at me. “You saw a video online on how to cut off a cast and you want to use me as a guinea pig, right?”

Ok… so John must have gone through my search history. I’m a little worried that he knows I might have exaggerated my mad surgical skills, but I’m more worried that he looked through my viewing history. The fact that I like to watch videos of tiny hamsters eating tiny burritos is something I don’t really want John to know. Those little hamsters are really cute though. Maybe I can convince John to adopt a pet hamster together. Couples get mutual pets all the time.

I glance down at John’s hand and remember the task at hand. I put a hand on his thigh. “You can trust me John. Dr. Strider is going to make everything alright.”

John groans. “Please don’t let this be some kind of medical kink that you’re getting off on. I’m all for role play, but I’m way too scared of doctors for this to be an all the time thing.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Trust me. You know all my kinks. Now, let me get you out of that cast so you can use that hand on me.”

John smiles. “Yes doctor.”

I turn the saw back on and John’s leg starts to shake. He’s also squirming suspiciously. I try not to smile too hard. “You need to pee?”

John puts his non casted hand between his legs and winces. “You promised me this morning that I’ll get a little action after the cast comes off, and I know how much you like it when we make out while I’m dying for a piss… so, you know.” His eyebrow’s strain together. “I drank like all the apple juice in the fridge.”

I put a hand on his bladder and smirk. “Always the overachiever.”

My smirk turns to a smile when I feel just how full John really is.

I’m still holding the saw and my hand slips, turning it on in my hand. I feel John jump at the sound and then shiver.

Scared John is not a turn on, so my arousal starts to fade. “You really are afraid of doctors, aren’t you?”

John’s face turns a soft shade of red. “I’m even more afraid of saw-wielding boyfriends.”

I let my lips find John’s in just the right way and he responds by moaning just the right sound. He continues to sing against my lips and I can feel his nervous tension melting away.

The kiss is meant to be a remedy for his nervousness, but while treating my patient, I think I let him over dose on me. Relaxed John turned to hungry John and soon cast removal was the furthest thing from either of our minds.

I yank John’s jeans off of his hips, and move my hands to pull down his boxers, but before I get them down, he moans. “Wait... s-stop.”

I lift my eyes to meet his, but everything is still blurry and my ears are ringing. My lower region aches like I just stopped a really good peeing session and I still have to go really, really badly.

John sounds out of breath. “I think I’m relaxed enough to let you saw the cast off. Do it now before I chicken out.”

I’m still 1000% distracted and all I want to do is John, but John’s bravery probably has a limited self-life so I have to act fast.

I reach for the saw. My hand is shaking so hard that it takes me a minute to realize that I haven’t turned it on yet and the vibrating is just my trembling hand.

I look at John and he gives me a trusting smile. At least one of us trusts me right now. I’m not very confident right now, but the website I got the electric saw from said that the blade cuts plaster and not skin, so there’s really no way to jack this up.

I start at the top of the cast and make a long vertical cut. John whines as I sear into the cast causing a debris of dust as I go.

John continues to squirm as I make the surprisingly precise cut. I start to make another cut parallel to that so I can just crack the whole thing open.

When I’m halfway through the cut I can tell that John has crossed into the ‘I’m about to pee myself right now stage’. I think my medical handiwork is the thing that’s about to scare the pee right out of him.

His free hand is griping my shirt sleeve so tightly, that I’m glad he’s holding onto the fabric instead of squeezing himself. Permanent damage to my sleeve is better than permanent damage to my John.

I finish my cut with a victorious ‘pop’ and crack the stupid thing open. It brings me sheer joy to get rid of the frequent reminder of John’s attack, but I seem to be the only one in a celebratory mood.

John looks like he’s about two steps past total desperation.

I free his arm from the cast, but his eyes shoot open and I know he’s about to free the entire contents of his bladder.

My brain and my hand react quicker than he does and I shove my non saw holding hand down John’s underwear. I’m shocked that everything is dry in here, because if I was the desperate one, I’d have been leaking all over the place.

I try to stand him up but he tilts his head back and grunts. “I can’t, I can’t move. Ugh, I don’t want to pee myself, but it hurts so bad.”

I relax my grip a bit. “If it hurts, just let it go.”

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes closed, so I squeeze him as well. He opens his eyes, looking a little less in pain now that I’m helping again.

He begs me. “Please, help me into the bathroom. I don’t want to pee here.”

I’m not sure why this particular victory is so important to him, but if he wants to reach the toilet without peeing everywhere, I’m determined to help him.

I put as much authority as I can behind my voice and talk quickly. “When you stand up gravity is gonna hit you like a freight train and the pain is gonna be epic. I can’t squeeze you anymore at that point because I’ll be hurting you. So I have a plan. Before you stand I’m going to pull down your boxers. I’m going to stop squeezing you and cup my hands at the base of your junk and we’re going to walk to the bathroom. I’m pretty sure my hands can hold whatever you leak from here to the toilet.”

John nods and I get to work.

When John stands I feel my hands start to fill with a blast of hot liquid, but for John’s sake I try not to look too horrified. This isn’t the most pleasant of feelings. I may grow to like something like this, but right now it’s just really, really strange.

For my sake, John grunts the stream to a halt and we make the most awkward two-man race to the toilet in history.

My ingenious plan works and John reaches the toilet. I move my hands away and he blasts a massive stream of pee, like a boss. When John pees it usually excites me, but it’s not the jump up and cheer kind of excitement, if you know what I mean. This time though, I wanted to cheer at the fact that we kind of accomplished the impossible.

John’s voice sounds strained from the barrage of pee forcing it’s way out of him. “Thanks Babe. I… mmm… I could…. ahhh… couldn’t have… ugh...”

His voice trails off and I smile. "It’s all good. Just pee.”

I run my hands under the sink and I can’t help but hear the sharp whine that comes from John when I turn on the faucet.

I leave the room and let him pee in peace. I flop down on the couch and close my eyes, waiting for my boyfriend to give me a reason to open them.

I feel the couch cushion shift under John’s weight and that’s more than enough to warrant opening one eye. John lifting off my shades is enough incentive to open the other.

John’s smiling so hard I can’t resist smiling back. His smile gets even wider as he speaks. “I got my cast off.”

I want to make fun of him for being such a goofball, but he’s so genuinely happy that I can’t do it. Instead I grab his waist and pull him in so that he’s straddling me.

I give him a kiss. “So what do you want to do to celebrate? This weekend, I’ll do whatever you want to do.”

John laughs. “I think you’re going to regret giving me this much power. I want you to go to the amusement park with me.”

I whine. “John why? No one has fun at a funpark. It’s full of screaming kids hopped up on sugar, long lines to rides that never live up to the hype, and don’t even get me started on the prices for food. It’s like 10 bucks for a hamburger.”

John kisses my neck. “You said whatever I wanted to do.”

I arch my back in response to his neck kisses. “I don’t remember saying that.”

He sucks at the skin by my collarbone and… and…

… yeah, there’s no way I’m saying no to the funpark now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little rushed so sorry if the pacing is a bit off. I got the idea for removing your own cast from a Supernatural episode that I was watching. Dean removed his leg cast and I was like "Dave so has to cut John out of his cast." That idea came to me Wednesday morning so the original chapter got bumped to the next one and I cranked this out in about 24 hours (I like to write under pressure, but that was a bit much even for me lol). So I hope you enjoy and I have a little preview of the next chapter for you. It's John and Dave's adventure at the amusement park. John's excited, Dave's not, and someone has to pee.  
> Thanks again for sticking with this story and I hope I can keep the good times rolling :D


	19. It's All Fun and Games Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little desperation at the amusement park :D It switches from John's POV to Dave's POV midchapter because it just made more sense.

**John POV**

I finally had convinced Dave to take me to the amusement park and right now, I can hardly stand still on the ticket line. Dave told me he had done every kind of rain dance that he could think of to cancel our fun park date, but the sun is shining on us today. That kind of sums up our relationship. We have our ups and downs like a rollercoaster, but the sun keeps on shining.

Dave and I are holding hands on line, so he swings my arm a little to get my attention. “You look deep in thought.”

I smile. “I was just thinking about how our love is like a rollercoaster.”

Dave rolls his eyes. “I guess you’re right. I do feel like hurling right now.”

I bounce on the balls of my feet when I see that the front of the line is only a few people away.

I squeeze Dave’s hand and reach my other hand into my pocket to take out my wallet. “Dude, we’re almost at the front of the line!”

I haven’t been this excited to approach the front of a long line since that time I had pee so bad that- .

Dave interrupts my thoughts. “Hey John, you can put your wallet away. Today is my treat.”

I look at him apprehensively. “Even the 10 buck hamburgers?”

He smiles for the first time today. “Even the 10 buck hamburgers.”

The day at the amusement park is going even better than I had imagined. We make sure to go on every ride at least three times, except for the Ferris wheel and the haunted house. Dave says that they’ll be cooler to ride at night

When we get a little too dizzy from riding the rollercoaster way too many times, Dave and I head to the carnival games section.

One of the giant stuffed bears catches my eyes. Dave must notice too because he grabs my wrist and drags me over to the booth. “C’mon. I’ll win you a prize.”

I laugh. “It’s ok. I think these games are rigged anyway.”

I really don’t, but there is no way Dave has enough skill to sink four basketballs or knock down a stack of bowling pins with a beanbag. I’m not that much better, though. It took months to get coordinated enough to unzip my jeans with one hand.

Dave shakes his head. “There’s a specific game I’m looking for that I know I can win. It’s gotta be around here somewhere. There it is!”

I look in the direction he’s pointing and see one of those shooting games that has a rifle and tons of targets. The more targets you hit, the bigger the prize you get.

I watch Dave’s face light up when he spots the grand prize. He laughs. “John, it’s a giant stuffed hamster eating a burrito. This is like fate or something.”

Dave had mentioned that he wanted to adopt a hamster with me and we agreed to go shopping for one next weekend. He wants to name our little pet Captain Egbert Strider the first, but I want to name it something a little more normal. The only thing we agree at this point is that it’s going to be a boy.

Dave picks up the rifle and hands the man working the booth some cash. The man smiles. “Keep shooting until you miss. First five shots in a row get you a prize. If you keep the streak going you can try for the grand prize.”

Dave clicks the safety off of the rifle. “I so got this.”

Dave mows down target after target with military sniper accuracy. The grand prize is fifty shots in a row and Dave gets that easily. I’m pretty sure he could have handled one hundred without breaking a sweat.”

The man at the booth looks equally impressed and terrified at the same time. A guy in shades taking out targets rapid fire, with barely any time to blink is a little disturbing. The fact that Dave did it with a hint of a smile, makes me worry that an undercover security guard in a clown suit is going to jump out and escort the two of us from the premises.

The man hands Dave the giant stuffed hamster and Dave immediately hands it to me. The toy is so big that I have to hug it to carry it.

I’m about to thank Dave for being the best boyfriend in the world, because he just goes crazy when I stoke the ego, but he looks a little distracted.

I take a good look at him and notice that he’s jiggling his leg. He’s either bored or his bladder is full enough to bother him.

Before I can ask, he puts his hands in his pockets and I can totally tell he’s blushing. “I’m tired of waiting on long lines. You want to grab something to eat?”

Dave translation: I really have to pee, but I’m going to play it off by saying I’m hungry and sneak off to the bathroom when you’re on line ordering the food.

I want to tease him so bad, but he won me a prize so letting him use the bathroom in peace is the least I can do for him. I give him a wink. “Let’s get one of those $10 hamburgers.”

We reach the burger place and the line for food is almost as long as the line for the popular rides. The overwhelming smell of grilled burger is amazing, but something tells me the ‘mmm’ that Dave let’s out isn’t because of the delicious smell.

The lights in here are pretty dim so I’m guessing that’s why Dave decides to take off his shades and stick them in his pocket. His eyes dart to me and I expect to see wide-eyed desperation looking back at me, but he looks ok. His body language is a bit antsy, but other than that he’s ok. Maybe he doesn’t have to pee.

Dave gives his crotch a squeeze, but he does it too fast for me to be sure if it’s out of pee desperation or he just needed to adjust himself. Seriously, why am I so easy to read, but Dave is like a freakin’ unsolvable mystery?

Dave offers me another clue when he starts to cross his legs, but stops himself before he fully does. “I’m gonna take a quick piss and then I’ll save us a table.”

I bite my lip. “I don’t want to be a jerk, but I’m not sure if I can carry two trays with drinks, and a giant stuffed animal by myself. Can you hold it?”

Dave responds by crossing his legs for real this time, and laughing nervously. “Can I hold the trays? Sure.”

I give him an eyebrow raise and he sighs. “Yeah, I can hold that too. I gotta go, but it’s not like I’m about to pee my pants or anything.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels as he waits with me. His rocking turns to crossing his legs again. That turns into stepping from one foot to the other with his hands buried in his front pockets again.

Eventually he sighs. “I could have pissed and came back already.”              

I give him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the wait was going to be this long.”

Dave’s eyes quickly dart to me. I’m pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He stops fidgeting, but his thighs are still pressed together. “Nah, it’s cool. I can hold it.”

He changes the subject quickly. “So the hamburgers are $10 but the cheeseburgers are $15. What kind of cheese costs 5 bucks?”

I squint at the menu against the wall. “I don’t know, but both meals come with French fries, a soda, and unlimited trips to the cotton candy bar.”

Dave sucks in a long puff of air. He shifts his weight to one side and then to the other and looks at the floor when he speaks. “John, I - .”

I don’t let him finish. “Go ahead. If you’re not back before I get to the front of the line, I’ll just wait here till you come back and we’ll carry the food together.”

I feel kind of guilty that I hadn’t thought of that plan before.

Dave winces. “It’s not like I’m about to pee myself.”

I laugh. “Yeah, like anyone here believes that.”

Dave moans. “It’s that obvious.” At this point his legs are crossed again.

I smile. “I’m pretty sure everyone on line knew you had to pee, like this whole time.”

He turns to leave, but I whisper in his ear. “You have to take a leak before I do. I should get a prize for that.”

Dave laughs as he leaves the line. “I’ll win you another stuffed thing.”

 

**Dave POV**

I toss on my shades and race out of the burger joint at top speed. When you’re running through a funpark with your hands between your legs it’s best to look as anonymous as possible, so the shades are a necessity.

I know I saw a bathroom around earlier today, but honestly everything’s a little hazy right now. I think I’m suffering from pee induced amnesia.

I stop running when I realize I have no idea where the freakin’ bathroom is. I look to the left and then the right, hoping that I can spot a worker.

Thankfully a janitor spots me before I give him something else disgusting to clean up. The janitor taps me on the shoulder. “Need to use the restroom?”

I squeeze my eyes closed wondering what other explanation I would have for my hand being shoved between my legs.

I reluctantly remove my hand from my crotch because conversations with complete strangers should not be had that way. I bounce in place to try and hold it all in. “Yeah, too much soda.”

That seems like a better excuse than ‘I was so caught up in how excited my boyfriend was by all the rides and games, that I completely ignored my bladder.’

The janitor smiles, revealing a smile he really should have kept hidden. He has three teeth, maybe four max, and for a second I wonder if he’s had one too many trips to the unlimited cotton candy bar.

My bladder quickly refocuses me and I can’t help but cross my legs. I really wish I had that stuffed hamster to hold in front of me. I might have been able to block my crotch with that thing.

The janitor points to the left. “The Men’s Room is down there and the Ladies’ Room is to the right. Good luck.”

I grimace and I squeaked out a ‘thank you’ as I sprint to where he had directed me.

There’s a line of a thousand million people when I reach the bathroom and for a second I wonder if he had directed me to the Ladies’ toilets by mistake. The line of men standing in front of me quickly kills that theory.

I give myself a hearty two fisted grab as I wait on line. I’m usually a little more discrete in public places, but we’re all guys here and I REALLY have to go.

I lean forward with my hands still firmly between my legs and complain to no one in general. “I gotta go so bad.”

I don’t really expect anyone to respond, but someone further up on the line does. “Hey buddy…”

Buddy? I don’t know the guy, but if he’s going to do what I think he is, he’s about to be my best friend in the whole world.

I look up and the guy all the way at the head of the line is waving for me to go ahead of him. I shuffle to the front of the line with my hands still between my legs and try not to think about all the guys watching me at full desperation as I hobble past them.

By the time I get to the front, the next urinal is open, so I head right to the porcelain piece of perfection and piss my brains out.

I pee for a solid two minutes before the stream starts to taper off.

I sigh, vowing never to let it get this far again. Fun and games are awesome, but for the rest of the time here, I have to make sure to give my bladder a little attention so ‘guy peeing his pants’ doesn’t become the main attraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter (and the next one) is a little self indulgent on my part because I love desperate at the amusement park stories. I hope you don't mind too much, but I just had to write a scenario like this with my two favorite guys. The next chapter is part 2 because I can't resist desperate John on the ferris wheel. The chapter after that is named two dudes and a hamster ;) Thanks for your continued support for this story. I appreciate every single one of you, whether you were with this story from the beginning, or you're a new fan of the story, or you accidentally clicked this and decided to stick around. I love you all, and I hope I didn't screw up this chapter too badly lol.


	20. It's All Fun and Games Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fun at the funpark continues :D

**Dave POV**

I’ve won John a few more stuffed things and we are currently dropping off all the loot in the car. It’s not my fault that a few ‘games of skill’ are easy to hack. Cheating is a skill too, right?

John starts to tease me about almost wetting my pants for the millionth time, but I’m not sweating it too hard. He’s carrying a jumbo soda cup in his hand that’s been reduced to a cup of ice. That ice cold refreshment is going to hit his bladder like 50 pounds of karma.

I prop up the burrito hamster behind the wheel to make it look like he’s driving.

We both have a good laugh at that because who wouldn’t find that funny? John’s blue teeth smile back at me. Yeah, the two of us might have stretched the limits of ‘unlimited’ when it came to the unlimited cotton candy bar.

He follows up his smile by sticking out his blue tongue at me.

I grab him by the waist and pull him close to me. “Unless you’re planning on sticking that tongue down my throat, you better put it back in your mouth.”

John lets out a soft moan, but I’m not sure if it’s from the comment or the fact that I jerked his body all up in my personal space.

His soft moan is followed by a blush and… wait a minute, does John have to pee?

Not only that, but if he does, he’s not letting me know. Could this mean he’s playing the game?

I put my hand against his bladder and feel every ounce of the jumbo soda trapped inside.

John pushes me away, but takes my hand to let me know he’s not mad. He winks. “If you want to feel me up, we have to go somewhere a little more private. You want to continue this in the bathroom?”

I smirk deviously. “You need the bathroom?”

John’s voice cracks. “No, n-not to use it or anything.”

We’re standing next to the car, so John and I could leave now and he could pee when we get to his house, but we still have two more things to do. I want John to have a fighting chance to win this game, but I’m not sure if he'll be able to last till after the carousel, the Ferris wheel, _and_ the drive home.

I gauge his need while still keeping the game intact. “So, we have two rides left to go on and then we can roll out. You good with that?”

John squints slightly in disagreement so I modify the request. “Actually, we should just hit the Ferris wheel and then split.” Sorry ponies, you’ve been passed over.

John grins. “Yeah, I can – um, we can do that.”

I want to walk from the car as slowly as possible so I can drag out the desperation, but John’s practically running to the ride.

When we reach the giant wheel there’s a short line. John hands me the soda cup that caused all of this glorious desperation and proceeds to shove his hands in his pockets and march in place. I’m guessing he handed  me the cup so I could throw it away, but I give it a shake instead.

John noticeably shivers and crosses on leg over the other. He has one foot balanced over the other so his legs aren’t technically squeezed together, but that doesn’t make it any less hot. I stare at John as we slowly advance in the line. He has to uncross his legs every time we move up so eventually he gives up the leg crossing and just shifts his weight back and forth.

We finally make it to the front of the line and John lets me get in the Ferris wheel cage first. For a second I wonder if he’s going to close me in the cage and make a mad dash to the nearest toilet, but he climbs in  and sits across from me, as expected.

The man operating the ride closes the door and the ride starts to rise. John gives his crotch a quick squeeze and I put a hand on his knee. “If you want a hand job, you just gotta ask.”

John shakes his head. “Just have an itch.”

I shake the cup of ice that I have in my hand. “Some ice might help.”

John grabs himself a little tighter and leans forward. “I’m ok. I’m sure the feeling will pass in a minute.”

He’s right. By the time we get half way to the top he seems a lot more comfortable. I don’t want to sabotage his attempts at trying to hold it till we get home, so I give the cup shaking a rest. I’m in such a generous mood that I give him a little something to take his mind off of his bladder too.

I climb over to sit next to him and the cage rocks from the shifting of weight distribution. Normally John would sit straddled on my lap during our making out sessions, but at this moment I couldn’t pry his legs apart with a crowbar.

I scoot as close as I can to him and lean in for a kiss. He slips me the tongue I was asking for before and I can’t help the embarrassingly loud moan that slips out. I can feel him smiling against my lips, but I don’t even care that he’s laughing at me, it just feels so good.

John’s the best kisser I’ve ever kissed. He’s actually the best at everything I’ve ever everythinged, but that’s something I’m never going to say out loud. Unfortunately my variety of hungry moans are kind of saying it for me.

I continue to make out with the hottest guy on the planet. I would gladly sit here for hours and have John literally suck my face right off, but our kiss ends abruptly with an announcement blaring from the speakers. “Please do not be alarmed. The ride is temporarily experiencing difficulties. Please stay inside the ride. We will try to resolve this problem as quickly as possible.”

John groans against my lips before pulling away.

I put my hand behind John’s neck. “Well at least we have something fun to do to pass the time.”

I can feel John’s knee shaking against mine and his bladder issue resurfaces in my memory.

We keep the game up and I don’t call him out as he squirms in the seat, but after a half hour I’m sure he’s bursting.

Finally he sighs as he rocks back and forth. “Dave, I gotta pee.”

I smirk. “That was kind of anticlimactic.”

John rocks a bit more and smirks. "I'm sorry that didn’t deliver the climax you were looking for.”

He starts to massage between his legs with his hand and I’m wondering if he’s in pain at this point.

I give him a kiss on the cheek. “Does it hurt?”

John doesn’t quite answer my question. “My bladder feels so full.”

I rub his back. “Don’t worry. We’ll go right to the bathroom when the ride starts up again. Think you can wait, Babe?”

He bites his lip. “I’m not sure. I just have to pee like crazy.”

I rub his thigh and he puts his head on my shoulder. He mumbles a sentence that completely makes up for the lame ‘Dave, I gotta pee’ admission. “Dave I don’t know how much longer I can wait. It wants to come out so bad.”

My response should be something inspirational and pep talky. My response should not have be the low grunt that I offer.

John sighs against my shoulder. I can’t see his face, but I’m positive that judgmental is written all over it. “Are you getting off on this?”

I smirk. “Every time you do it.”

John moans. “At least one of us is having a good time.”

Another twenty minutes pass and the ride is still broken. We’ve moved a few times, but only in a start then stop stutter fashion. This motion hasn’t agreed with John’s bladder. He hasn’t admitted it, but I think his bladder may have let out a few start then stop stutters of its own.

It’s a little too dark to see if John has any obvious wetness in the crotch region, so I inspect with my hand. His hand is already jammed between his legs, so I put my hand on top of his and see if it’s wet.

His hand feels clammy, but that’s just from sweat. I move my hand away and gently brush a few strands of his hair away from his forehead and it’s just as sweaty.

He tilts his head back. “I’m going to pee myself next to my boyfriend on the Ferris wheel. This is totally going to happen.”

I try to keep from laughing. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

That brings out a momentary smile from John, but it’s followed by a grimace. “I'm sure that the guy that operates the ride and has to clean it up is going to think it’s a bad thing.”

I put my hand on John’s thigh again. “Well screw him. That’s what he gets for trapping us in a broken ride.”

John shakes his head. “He didn’t break the ride on purpose. I’m sure it was an accident.”

I nod. “And so is what you’re about to do.”

John pushes his hands deeper into his crotch. “You might be wrong on that one. I didn’t accidentally get this full. I kind of did that part on purpose. I should have peed right when that jumbo soda started to make waves in my bladder, but I – wait a minute. That’s it! I can pee in the soda cup.”

Both of us look at the cup that's sitting across from us. That supersized container won't have any problems containing John’s massive piss.

I grab the cup and pop off the lid. The coldness from the ice rises from the bottom, but I’m sure that John’s junk can handle a little bit of a chill.

While I had been peeling off the lid, John had been peeling out of his jeans and boxers. He's more than ready when I hold the cup in position.

The cup is deep enough so that I can’t see his stream (he shoved himself pretty far in there), but he lets out a sharp whine and I’m pretty sure that the peeing has begun. I get more auditory confirmation when I hear the sound of the ice shifting in the bottom of the cup. It sounds just like when you fill up a cup at a fast food joint.

My grip on the cup is relatively steady (all things considered) but the rush of hot urine is causing the ice to scatter around noisily as it melts. I know that the sound isn’t the most pleasant for John’s draining bladder. The way he has his eyes closed makes me positive that he hasn’t reached the relaxing stage of the relaxing pee.

His teeth start to chatter and I wonder if the ice is starting to chill his body. I pull the cup down to give a little more clearance between the rising level of the ice cold pee and his junk.

Eventually he gives that ahh sound that signifies his bladder has drained to comfortable levels. His eyes blink open and he smirks. “The cup says to please recycle. Does this count?”

It’s another hour before the ride safely takes us back to the ground and me, John, and a cup of pee exit the cage. John insists on carrying the half-filled pee cup with him. I think he might be afraid that he's going to need it on the drive back.

I tease him all the way to the car about how impressive filling half of that jumbo cup is, but he insists that the ice boasted the volume significantly.

He tosses the hamster to the back seat, turns the key in the ignition, and sighs. “I have to pee again.”

I shift in my seat. “I have to take a leak too. Why don’t we see has to use the cup first. Winner gets whatever he wants from the loser.”

John sighs. “Don’t you get that from me anyway?”

I laugh. “Then there’s nothing to lose.”

John blushes. “Fine, but I have to pull over. It isn’t fair if I can’t hold myself.”

I haven’t peed since lunch and John’s bladder muscles are weaker than wet toilet paper so the contest doesn’t take long at all.

You can only guess who lost… again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't have internet access for the rest of the day so I'm posting really early in the morning. Thanks for all the positive comments so far and I hope you like this chapter :D


	21. Whoever Said That You Can't Buy Love, Never Bought a Hamster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and John get a hamster. Sorry for the mushy title, but I'm feeling kind of emotional today :)

**John POV**

I push down on the brake pedal and ease to a stop at the red light. I want to blame this light or even traffic for making me late, but I was technically five minutes late when I left the house. The suitcase in the backseat is the main reason for that. I’m staying over Dave’s place for the weekend and I had left packing to the last minute.

I pull into the parking lot and see Dave leaning against the building. His shades make it hard for me to tell if he sees me, but his head moves in the direction of my car so I guess I’ve been spotted. The smirk on his face makes me fairly confident that he isn’t angry that I made him wait.

I exit the car and walk over to Dave. He crosses his arms across his chest. “Are you ready to be a dad?”

I glance over at the pet shop and smile. “Let’s get ourselves a burrito hamster.”

Dave puts his arm around me as we walk to the door. “Let’s get a burrito hamster? Dude, you are so lame.”

We walk into the pet store and I’m hit in the face with the smell of way too many animals at once.

Dave points at the rabbit enclosure in front of us. “You see that? They put the cute fluffy stuff right when you come in to get you to buy one of them. That’s how they trick you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “But aren’t we planning on buying something cute and fluffy?”

Dave shrugs. “I guess, but it’s still a racket.”

The salesman interrupts Dave’s paranoid rant. “Can I help you?”

I decide to do the talking. “Yes, we’d like to buy a hamster.”

The salesman nods. “Follow me. What makes you want to be pet owners?”

Dave smirks. “I saw a hamster do something really cool on the Internet. Hey, can we audition all of the little fuzzy guys to make sure we don’t get a dud.”

The salesman looked apprehensively at Dave so I try a bit of damage control. “Actually the hamster is for me.”

The salesman smiles. “Alright. The hamsters are in the back. Wait right here while I bring them out.”

When the man disappears in the back I turn to Dave, but he’s pressed against the glass cage of something exotic.

He looks back at me and smirks. “There’s an anaconda in there named Dave. That seems about right.”

I laugh. “That’s not an anaconda. I think it’s illegal to sell them.”

Dave sighs. “It’s still bigger than your average snake.”

I look from the snake to Dave and wink. “Way bigger than average, Babe.”

This gets a smile from Dave, but an annoyed clear of the throat from the salesman. He puts a box of hamsters on the counter. “These are all the hamsters we have. As you can see, they are all different colors and sizes, and they are all female.”

Dave walks over to the little cuties. “Hey ladies.”

The hamsters all scatter away from Dave, to the other side of the box.

Dave sighs. “Never been too popular with the chicks.”

I pick up the brown and white striped one. “I think they’re scared of your shades. Eye contact with an animal is important.”

Dave pets the hamster in my hand. “Since when have you become a hamster whisperer?”

I look down at the content hamster in my hand. “I think this one is friendly.”

Dave whispers. “I know that we said we wanted a boy, but I think she’s kind of cute.”

I nod. “It might be good to have a female in the house. We’re lacking a bit in the estrogen department.”

Dave continues to pet the hamster. “Ask the guy if girl hamsters have estrogen.”

I shake my head. “Dave, that’s just weird. This guy already thinks we’re bizarre. If there was such a thing as animal protective services, I think he would have called them.”

Dave smiles. “We’re going to be awesome parents. I have a Dorito in my pocket. Distract the salesguy so I can see if she eats it.”

I want to protest, but Dave is already taking the Dorito out of his pocket and this is the only pet store in town so I didn’t really want to get us banned from here. I walk over to the salesman and smile. “So, um do girl hamsters have estrogen?”

The man looks at me like I have three heads (I kind of knew he would) and answers slowly. “Um, yes they do. What do you plan to do with this hamster?”

I feel myself smile a little too unnaturally and my response is even worse. “No, it’s cool. Dave and I are gay.”

Whoa, I wish I could take that sentence that implied something really strange back.

I try to fix things. “No, no. Even if the hamster was a guy I wouldn’t want to have sex with it.”

Ok, now I’m positive that my face is redder than it’s ever been and I can hear Dave laughing behind me.

I take a deep breath. “I’m really sorry. I should just go.”

The salesman smiles. “It’s ok. I’m pretty sure you’re not into hamster loving.”

I’m so embarrassed at this point that I buy the hamster and the cage as quickly as possible, just so I can get out of there.

Dave takes our hamster in his car and I follow as we head to his house. I carry in my suitcase and Dave carries in our new pet.

Dave rests the cage on the coffee table. “What should we name her? I don’t think Captain - .”

I cut him off before he can finish. “That name was never going to happen anyway.”

Dave pokes his finger through one of the bars of the cage. “I like Rose. I think she looks like a Rose.”

Bro walks up from behind me and laughs. “She doesn’t smell like a rose. Why did you guys buy a rat?”

Dave narrows his eyes at Bro. “You smell like a decomposing hobo. By the way, why are you still freeloading in my place? I wanted to spend the weekend alone with my hot boyfriend. If you’re creeping around the basement we can’t even get freaky without you listening.”

We learned the hard way that anything done on the main floor can easily be heard in the basement. Wait a minute. If Bro can hear the mattress rocking when we get it on, then he can hear when I use the bathroom.

The thought of Bro hearing me pee is way too embarrassing to think about. I’ve already hit a ten out of ten on the embarrassment scale at the pet store. I don’t know if I can handle anything else today.

My bladder is semi full so if I run to the bathroom while Bro is up here, I can pee without him hearing. I turn to head to the bathroom, but unfortunately Bro turns at the same time to head downstairs.

Ok, this isn’t that bad. He has to come back upstairs for dinner. I can hold it until then. I’m aware of my bladder so it’s not as easy to hold, but I just have to focus on something else.

Dave gives me a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t worry Babe, I’ll make sure he stays somewhere else tomorrow.”

I nod and try to smile as best as possible. I’m not really worried about tomorrow. I’m worried about the time between now and dinner. I have last until then. I can do this.

I reach for the remote and try to turn on the best distraction I can think of. Unfortunately Dave is also turned on and he starts to kiss me on the couch. He knocks the remote out of my hand and nearly knocks the pee right out of me. He grabs me by the waist and when he lays down on the couch, he pulls me down on top of him.

I really, really want to do this, but not right now.

I put my hands on his shoulders to push away and he frowns. “Everything ok?”

I try to hold back a moan. “I can’t do this. We have to stop.”

Dave is overly perceptive whenever I need to pee so I’m hoping that he says it before I do. He runs his fingers through my hair and sighs. “You’re afraid Bro is going to hear?”

Not quite right, but really close.

I don’t know why this is so embarrassing to admit. We’re not playing the desperation game right now so I should just be able to tell Dave that I have to pee and get on with my life. I just have to tell my understanding boyfriend that I don’t want his brother to hear me pee and he should be able to fix the situation. It’s as easy as that.

I open my mouth, but that sentence doesn’t come out. “I’m really hungry. You want to have dinner?”

Dave gives me a kiss and walks to the kitchen. I sit on the couch with my hands between my legs and lean forward. I don’t know why the need to pee is climbing so quickly. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to panic.

I raise my voice so Dave can hear me from the kitchen. “Should I go downstairs and tell Bro to come up?” My guess is that dinner is going to be something of the microwaveable variety so if I get Bro to come upstairs now, I have anywhere between a minute to five minutes to sneak away to the toilet.

Dave yells back. “Nah, let that troll stay downstairs. I’ll toss him a piece of pizza and I hope he chokes on it.”

I feel my bladder strongly protest that idea. I grip myself a little tighter. “You should invite him upstairs. Maybe if you’re nice, he’ll leave for a few hours.”

Dave’s stays as stubborn as ever. “He can stay down there all night for all I care.”

I squeeze my thighs together as they start to shake. I prevent the pulsing urine from escaping, but a small sentence slips out. “I have to pee.”

Dave peeks his head back into the room. “Did you say something?”

I squeeze myself shamelessly. “I have to use the bathroom.”

Dave looks at me slightly confused. “And you’re holding it because why?”

I feel my whole body shaking against the couch cushion. “I don’t want Bro to hear.”

Dave shrugs. “All pee sounds the same when it hits the toilet. He won’t know if it’s you or me.”

I twist my legs a little tighter. “This is weird. You’re usually the one making me hold it, not telling me to go.”

Dave nods. “Yeah, well we can’t get it on with Bro here so I gotta keep the anaconda calm.”

I groan. “Just please call Bro upstairs so I can take a leak.”

Dave walked back over to the microwave. “I don’t want to talk to that turd. If you want him to eat with us, ask him yourself.”

I know that the only movement I’ll be able to muster is dragging myself to the toilet. Walking down the stairs isn’t going to happen. I have to get Dave to do it and I know just the way.

I squeeze myself as hard as I can and rock back and forth. “Ugh Dave, I can’t… ooo it’s about to leak out. Ahhh… I feel it right on the edge. I think… I think… m-my hands are about to get wet. Dave I’m so close. The pressure is so bad I’m about to lose it.”

I hear Dave moan from the kitchen and I know I’ve almost got him where I want him.

I clench my muscles as tight as possible so that my theatrics don’t become a reality. I grunt loudly and start to whine. “Dave, pleeeease. I have to pee. I have to pee so badly. It wants to push out of me so badly. Please, please, please… I can’t take it anymore. I gotta let a little out to take off the pressure, but I don’t think I’ll be able to control it once I start.”

Dave yells from the kitchen. “Ok, ok, just stop doing that. John, you’re going to make me - .”

I yell back. “Ask Bro to come upstairs and I’ll stop. Trust me Dave, I don’t think you want me to continue.”

Dave laughs. “Alright. You win. Just give me a sec before I get him. My brother doesn’t need to see me at a full salute. I just need to think of Bill naked and I’ll be back to normal.”

I laugh. “Bill from work?”

Dave grunts. “Kills the little solider every time.”

I try not to laugh, because I’m really beyond desperate right now.

I hear Dave shuffle over to the basement and I push myself off of the couch. I know that standing is going to be somewhat of an ordeal so I take it slow so I won’t piss myself.

I hear the sound of someone coming up the stairs so I limp over to the bathroom. I wait until I hear the sound of Bro talking before I race into the bathroom and shut the door.

I lean against the back of the door and feel my legs shaking uncontrollably. The toilet is right across from me, but I have to take a few steps to reach it. I’m pretty sure that my bladder’s under enough pressure to rocket my stream straight into the bowl from here, but I’m a guest at Dave’s house, so I really shouldn’t do that.

I use the last ounce of self-control that I have to complete a series of right foot left foot, until I reach the toilet. I yank my pants down and pee so hard that I wonder if Bro and Dave can hear it from the kitchen.

Wait, if Bro can hear me peeing from the kitchen… 


	22. A Night Piss Can Be Pure Bliss

**Dave POV**

I’m at my favorite point in this recurring dream. It’s the part that John starts sucking on my ear. He always spends about a minute teasing my ear with his tongue and then he moves on to sucking my –.

My favorite kind of foreplay is interrupted by John’s panicked voice as he whines in my ear. “Dave… Dave… wake up.”

I grumble, preferring the John in my dreams to the John of my reality. It takes a moment for the anger of being woken up to turn into concern for my frantic boyfriend. John starts to shake me with a bit more intensity. I roll over and respond to the guy getting me up at an obscenely early hour of the morning. “What’s up Babe?”

His words wake me up a little quicker. “I have to go the bathroom.”

I yawn as I sit up. “You woke me up for that?”

John’s face focuses from a blurry blob to the recognizable form of the guy that I love. I actually loved him a bit more before he cut my favorite dream short.

I’m fully awake at this point so John stops shaking me and put his hands between his legs. “Dave, I don’t know if I can hold it for the rest of the night.”

Ok, maybe I’m not too angry that he woke me up after all.

His legs shake rapidly, causing the bed to vibrate in a way that’s causing me to rise and shine in a different way. I take a long look at this too good to be true situation and wonder if I’m in the middle of one of those dream-within-a-dream kind of things.

John moans a little too urgently for me to let this go on for too much longer. I offer a helping hand, even though it comes from a slightly voyeuristic place. “John, do you need my help using the bathroom or something?”

John shakes his head. “I can’t pee if Bro can hear it downstairs, but I have to go so bad.”

I sigh. “It’s the middle of the night. Bro’s probably asleep.”

John bites his lip. “What if he’s not?”

I yawn. “Turn on the faucet when you piss and it’ll all just sound like water.”

I’m guessing that I had said the magic words because John bolts out of the room at top speed. I lay back down and close my eyes because being a genius is really exhausting. I drift off, hoping that my dream was properly bookmarked and I can pick up where I left off.

The train to dreamland derails again when I hear the sound of John running back into the room.

He bounces from foot to foot. “Dave, Dave, Dave!”

I smirk. “Are their two other Daves here that I’m unaware of?”

John shakes his head. “There’s a mouse in the bathroom. I slammed the door shut when I ran away so it’s trapped in there.”

I motion for John to come back to bed. “Mice are like cats. They have no spine. I’m sure the little guy is squeezing under the door and headed here right now.”

John jumps on the bed so quickly that I’m actually sent airborne. Thankfully I grab onto the edge of the bed to prevent being bounced right out of it.

I can’t help but laugh. “Relax Babe, I’m just teasing you about the spineless mouse thing. I’m sure Mickey is still nice and trapped, just like you left him.”

John pulls the sheet up to his neck. That’s smart John. Fabric is the most effective thing against a mouse attack.

He scoots toward the middle of the bed and I roll my eyes. “It’s not like the mouse is going to sprout wings and fly up here.”

John releases the grip on the sheet so he can take a nice hearty grab of his man-meat. Did the mouse block John’s trip to the toilet? That right there is worth a whole cheese wheel my friend.

John lets out a slow exhale. “Aren’t you disturbed by the fact that you have a mouse living in your house?”

I shrug. “I’m a little ticked off because I keep this place pretty clean. I bet its Bro’s fault. He’s probably drowning in that basement under a pile of empty potato chips bags and beer bottles. It’s probably like that hoarders show and you can only see his head sticking out of the trash pile.”

John gives himself another squeeze. “I don’t care how it got here or whose fault it is. Can we just catch it so I can take a piss?”

I feel my eyelids getting heavier. “Nah, just go to sleep. Mice are nocturnal so it’ll be easier to catch in the morning.”

John takes my advice and snuggles next to me. I can feel his hand gripping his crotch against my back and it makes me smile. He wraps his other arm around me, but it’s just low enough on my bladder to make me realize I have to pee too.

Seriously? Why did I not realize this before, when I wasn’t nice and comfy and snuggled against John?

I turn away, hoping that adjusting my position in John’s grasp will calm my bladder until morning. Unfortunately, he grips me tighter and I’m painfully aware that being little spoon isn’t going to work with my bladder in this condition.

I grunt. “John, I gotta take a piss.”

John sleepily mumbles against my back. “Love you too.”

Did John honestly fall asleep with a full bladder in seconds? How is that even possible?

I try to squirm free. “I need to get up.”

John squeezes me tighter. He mumbles something that sounds like another language and I realize I’m not getting anywhere with this.

I shift enough that I’m fully facing him and blow in his face. He hates that. Thankfully he hates it enough to wake up.

He lets go of me as he pushes away from me. “Dave!”

I smirk. “It was either blow on your face or pee on it.”

John opens his eyes. “Dude, what?”

I sit up. “I have to take a piss and you were practically squeezing it out of me.”

John pushes hard against my bladder. “How bad do you have to go?

I slam my thighs shut as I push his hand away. “I can wait until morning.”

John shivers at the suggestion. “I can’t. Going to sleep made me have to pee worse.”

I laugh. “First of all, you were asleep for half a second. Second of all, telling me how much you have to go makes me want to make you hold it longer.”

John puts both hands between his legs and draws his knees to his chest. He starts rocking and moaning and my bladder isn’t exactly empty so I have to put an end to this quickly.

I clear my throat. “Ok, let’s send Mickey back to Disneyland.”

John reaches under the bed and hands me my Louisville Slugger. My plan is to sort of shoo the little guy out of bathroom, so I’m pretty sure my Zombie killing bat is overkill.

The need to pee slows us down, as we creep down the hallway. I’m hunched over with a bat in one hand and my other hand in a fist. I’m positive that I look more like a guy that’s sneaking up to kill someone than a guy desperate for a leak.

When get close to the closed bathroom door, I hold up my hand, signaling for John to wait here. I put a finger over my mouth and mouth the words ‘wait here’. John nods and slides down the wall to a crouched position on the floor.

This is what I get for having a guy with a bursting bladder as my back up.

I twirl the bat in my hand as I approach the door and turn the knob slowly. The door responds with a creak and my bladder responds with a ‘hurry up!’

I grip the neck of the bat like I’m Derek-freakin’-Jeter and I kick the door open like I’m on a police raid. John must have left the light on before he ran for his life, so when I charge inside I have a clear view of my surroundings.

I scan the room for any rodent signs of life and I see Rose the hamster looking up at me. It takes her a spilt second to realize that her owner is now a bat-wielding psychopath and she scurries behind the toilet.

Being this close to a toilet isn’t doing anything positive to my bladder. My legs cross automatically and I drop the bat and start to untie the drawstrings of my sweatpants.

John calls out from the safety of the hallway. “Did you get it?”

I fiddle with the knot. “False alarm. It was just Rose. I think I left her cage open.”

John runs into the room. “You hit her with the bat?”

I start to slip my pants down. “No, I dropped the bat. Since I played hero, I get dibs on the toilet first.”

John gasps. “You can’t pee with Rose in here. She’s a girl.”

I’m not sure why I even humor him, but I stop pulling my pants down and grab myself. “What?”

John crawls onto the floor and tries to convince Rose to walk into his hand. “Rose is our trial run at parenting. We can’t pee in front of our little girl.”

I squeeze myself a little harder. “She’s a hamster.”

John extends his hand a little further, but Rose still doesn’t walk toward it. John sighs. “Seeing your parents pee is traumatic.”

I step up to the toilet. “Holding it in any longer is more traumatic. Just cover her eyes when you catch her.”

I let the pee cascade into the toilet and I’m not sure if the louder moan is coming from me or John. I glance away from my torrential stream and see John curled up in the fetal position on the floor. I debate whether slowing down my stream will be helpful to John, but I’m pretty sure it’s the fact that I’m peeing that’s making John’s desperation rise, not the intensity of the flow.

John manages to get to his feet, but I’m not even close to done peeing and he’s not going to last more than a few more seconds.

I clench my teeth as the pee pushes out in forceful jet. “If you pee on the floor she’s going to drown. Come join me.”

John quickly lifts his ban on peeing in front of our hamster child and races to join me. I’m not sure if we have enough room to accomplish duel peeing, but the question is left unanswered when I hear him unleashing a mighty stream into the trashcan next to me.

As the liquid hits the bag that's lining the trashcan, the bag offers a crinkling sound as it fills. I can’t help but look at John, but I’m not alone. Rose marches out of her hiding spot and stops to stare along with me.

John’s head is tilted back and his eyes are closed, so I’m left to narrate the scene. “I hate to break it to you, but Rose is sneaking a peek. I think our child has a bit of a piss fetish.”

John doesn’t open his eyes and smirks. “Yeah? Well she gets that from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for supporting this story. I hadn't really planned for this to be more than just a short pee desperation game in the car. It turned into something greater than I could have ever imagined and I'm so happy that it did. I'm not sure if I can keep updating this weekly, so I'm going to try to post every two weeks.


	23. I'll Watch Whatever's Playing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since an update. I'm so sorry. Thank you for being so patient. Here are two chapters to make up for my laziness. :D

**John POV**

Why am I always late? Why?!

I bought my movie ticket in advance, I had the day off of work, I have absolutely no reason to be running to the movie theater with seconds to spare, but that’s exactly what’s happening. I can’t keep showing up on dates late. Dave is going to leave me. This is the last straw. Dave is going to leave me and it’s all my fault. Why am I so - ?

The man that collects the tickets interrupts my fear spiral. “I need to see your ticket.”

I reach into my pocket to get the ticket and realize I have to pee. My need to pee has been triggered all kinds of different ways, but reaching into my pocket is a new one.

I bounce on my toes as the man examines the ticket. I don’t have many options. Dave probably turned off his phone so I can’t just text him and say that I’m here, but in the bathroom. Maybe I should just go really quick since I’m already late.

I’m not sure why my need to pee has magically gone from zero to one hundred, but I can barely stand still. I shift my weight and try to look casual. “Um, which way is the Men’s room?”

The ticket taker hands back my ticket. “Your movie is in theater 3.”

I bounce a little more on my feet. “And the Men’s room?”

The guy points with a smirk. “The closest one is right down that way, but a movie just got out so there’s gonna be a pretty long line. Good luck.”

Good luck? I thought I was hiding my increasing desperation better than that.

I nod and head to theater 3. My new plan is to say a quick hi to Dave first, since I have a long bathroom wait in my future. I’m only about 10 minutes late so I don’t think anyone will care if I walk in now during the previews and then walk out again.

I push the door open and I’m surprised that the lights are still on. Before I can process what this means, I hear Dave call my name. “John! I saved you a seat. Come sit on my lap.”

This would normally be an insanely embarrassing moment, but the fact that Dave and I are the only people in the room takes the edge off the embarrassment. Yet still, I feel my face heating up.

I walk over to Dave, but don’t sit down because I still really, really need to pee. I try to hide the fact that I have to go from Dave because I don’t want to hear the teasing right now. “Why hasn’t the movie started?”

Dave takes my hand and somehow manages to sit me down in the seat next to him. He laughs. “The movie doesn’t start for another 20 minutes. You thought you were late, didn’t you?”

I glance at the movie screen and the commercial that's playing before the previews is evidence that I made a mistake with the time.

Dave frowns. “You were going to be late again? Dude, what is up with you and punctuality?”

I cross my legs, trying to get into a comfortable position.

So new plan is, I’ll defend myself really quick and then pee really quick. “I’m technically not late. And why are you so early? And why isn’t anyone here?”

Dave shrugs. “Probably because everyone’s stealing it from the internet like we should have done. As a professional hacker, it kills me that I’m paying ten bucks for this. Although the pre-show entertainment is pretty good.”

This conservation has gone on too long for my bladder, but somehow Dave keeps dragging it out. I bite my lip hoping that this is the last question I ask. “Pre-show entertainment? You mean the commercials?”

Dave smirks and lifts up his shades. “Nope. I’m talking about desperate John; playing in a theater near me.”

I mumble. “I don’t have to pee.”

Dave shakes his head. “Liar. The only reason you’d cross your legs while sitting is if you’re trying to hide a little downtown action or if you have to take a leak. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that the Verizon Wireless friends and family plan commercial isn’t getting you hot and horny, so desperate to piss is the winner.”

I cross my legs a little tighter. “That’s just stupid. I’m going to get some popcorn.”

Dave puts a hand over my bladder. “Do you need popcorn really, really bad? Maybe urgently?”

The weight of his hand over my overfilled bladder causes a chill to go up my spine. I clench my teeth and breathe in sharply as my body lets out an embarrassing shiver.

I feel Dave’s hand tense almost as much as my body does. His tone is a little more concerned. “You have to go that bad?”

I nod my head with my teeth still clenched. “Still think you wasted ten bucks to come here?”

Dave moves his hand between my legs. I’m assuming it’s to help me hold it. “Ten bucks is nothing. Your sweet meat is priceless.”

Laughing makes the holding task so much harder, but I can’t help it. I moan as the pressure goes from crazy to psychotic, but Dave has a pretty good grip on the “sweet meat” so I’m able to hold back the flood.

Dave puts his other hand on my trembling knee. “You think you can hold it till the movie starts?”

I wince. “I’m not sure.”

Dave winks. “Ok, let’s get you to the bathroom then.”

Dave keeps his hand in it’s helpful place as I stand. My legs shake as I try to keep my balance and my dignity, but seriously, I’m on the verge of losing both.

Dave walks me to the door and I take a deep breath. Each step I take makes the urge to go decrease a little and I can’t help but wonder if my bladder is finally showing me a little mercy.

I can walk relatively normally as we make our way to the lobby. The bathroom is in sight now and I can almost imagine a world that I’m not filled to the brim with everything I drank this morning.

There’s a line of two guys outside of the door, which isn’t too bad. The bad part is that some sadistic interior decorator decided to put the bathroom right across from the line to buy snacks. That means that the unlucky family of four that’s innocently buying popcorn has to witness my potty dance of humiliation.

Nervousness amps up my need to go a few notches and I have to march in place.

I look over at Dave, hoping he can read my mind and he gives me a smirk. “Don’t worry Babe. I got this.”

Dave walks over to the popcorn line as I walk over to the bathroom line. As I cross my legs, he crosses in front of the family’s line of vision. He happily chats with them about whatever crap that Dave and a suburban family of four have in common.

I’m cursing the guy that installed a single serve bathroom in a public movie theater, but my anger lessens when I realize there’s only one guy in front of me at this point.

My internal celebration causes a soft moan, and the guy ahead of me turns around. My hands are in my pockets and I’m jiggling my left leg so it’s pretty obvious why I’m making socially unacceptable sounds behind him.

He smiles knowingly. “Go ahead. You look like you need it more than me.”

I’m just about to take him up on his offer and take his spot as first on line, but then it happens. It’s the hint of cologne that I’ve smelled before thousands of times, but hadn’t since… since the day I was attacked.

It’s faint at first because I’m sure the guy didn’t bathe in cologne, but that smell triggers something horrible inside of me. My whole body freezes and my lungs start to burn. The only air I can breathe is tainted with the scent of _that_ man.

The innocent man with the unfortunate choice of cologne puts a hand on my shoulder and that’s when the burning travels from my lungs to the shoulder he touches. My vision starts to blur and the walls start to close in. Everything is too hot… and too small… and too much and I- I can’t breathe!

I try to yell for Dave, but the only thing that comes out is the thing I’ve been trying to hold in. I can feel the humiliation traveling down my legs and pooling to the floor, but I don’t even care. I don’t need privacy or pride or dignity. I just need Dave!

I finally choke out the word ‘Dave’, but somehow time has skipped forward because he’s already standing next to me.

My whole body is shaking as if I’m cold, but I feel so hot. It’s like I’m burning alive. Dave takes his jacket off and ties it around my waist. I know he’s trying to hide the fact that I peed my pants because everyone can see. I wish that his kindness is enough to take the crippling fear away, but even him touching me is too much.

I find my voice again and start crying. “Stop! Don’t touch me! Don’t hurt me!”

Dave puts his hands on the sides of my arms and even under the shades I can tell he's crying along with me. He keeps his hands holding my arms and right now his grip is the only thing keeping me together. But still it’s too much. I don’t want to be touched right now.

His voice comes out soft, but grounding. “I’m here John. You’re safe.”

I start to cry harder.

Dave releases his hold on my arms to give me a hug, but somehow he moves further away. I’m guessing that someone pushed him because he yells. “Back up and get off me!”

I don’t think Dave pushes the guy hard, but the momentum causes the guy to fall to the ground.

Dave turns away from me and his words are a low mumble. “You’re… a cop. This is bad.”

The man stands and doesn’t look happy. This isn’t happening. Dave is going to go to jail and it’s all my fault.

I start to cry harder and can’t stand anymore.

Dave tries to catch me as I slide down against the wall, but he only has one hand. The cop has his other hand with the handcuff looped around his wrist.

Dave slows down my fall so I don’t hurt myself, but the cop reaches around to cuff his other hand.

Dave talks quickly. “Look, officer, I didn’t know you were a cop. My back was turned.”

The cop doesn’t clasp on the other handcuff, but doesn’t sound happy. “I’m not a cop, I’m movie security. I have to take you in because you still publicly assaulted an officer. I won’t press charges because I can see that your boyfriend is upset, but you have to stay in a holding cell for the night.”

Dave shakes his head. “It was an accident. My boyfriend’s upset and – .”

The security guard frowns. “I don’t make the law, I just follow it.”

Dave sighs. “Are you freakin’ serious right now?”

The security guard takes Dave’s shades off and throws them to the floor. “You better stop talking kid.”

The shades happen to land on my lap and I hold onto them with a death grip. If Dave gets arrested this is all my fault. I want to tell the guard to arrest me instead of Dave. I’m the one that started this mess, but all that comes out his a series of moans.

Both of their heads turn to face me, but the security guard is first to speak. “Do you need an ambulance?”

I try to answer, but I can’t stop shaking.

Dave squats down to be eyelevel with me and squints as the officer doesn’t let go of the other handcuff ring. He mumbles, “Freakin’ cops”, but speaks a little louder to me. “Do you want to go in an ambulance, Babe, or do you want to go to my place with Bro?”

I hiccup out a response. “I want… to go… with Bro…”

Dave gives me his phone and whispers. “This cop already wants to bend me over so I gotta shut up and go with him. Call Bro and he’ll take care of you. Everything’s going to be ok. I promise.”

The security guard yanks on Dave’s handcuff, pulling Dave to his feet.

The guard drags him away and I’m left sitting on the floor in a puddle of my own shame, clutching Dave’s shades and his phone.

The janitor rolls past with his rolling bucket and mop. I’m expecting him to yell at me for ruining his floor, but he smiles. “Why don’t you go in the bathroom until your friend comes to pick you up? I’ll put an out of order sign up so no one bothers you.”

I choke out a thank you and walk into the bathroom.

I find Bro’s number in Dave’s contacts and I make the call. The phone rings five times before it goes to voicemail. I scroll through Dave’s contacts list, but no one’s name is familiar. Most of the names aren’t even names. I’m pretty sure that ‘Wayward Vagabond’ isn’t someone I should call when I’m in trouble.

I dial the only other name I recognize.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hello? How’s it going Dave?”

I try to stop my voice from shaking. “Hi Bill. This is John. I know you’re a work friend of Dave’s. I’m sorry to call you, but I need help.”

I hope Dave doesn’t learn any new skills in prison because he will definitely shank me for this.


	24. Desperation is the New Black

**Dave POV**

I open my eyes as a metal banging sound jars me awake. I’m surprised I slept at all. I fell asleep standing, leaning against the back wall of my cell so technically that doesn’t count as sleeping. It’s more like sleep mode than a full shut down.

The metal banging continues and this time it’s accompanied with a familiar security’s voice. “Look alive sunshine. It’s time for you to go.”

Movie cop stayed the night at the police station. Stalk much?

For the first time in my life I don’t beg for five more minutes of sleep and I put as much distance between me and temporary incarceration as I can.

My first act of freedom involves calling Bro to come pick me up. There’s a payphone hanging on the wall across from the vending machine. My second act of freedom will be buying breakfast from that machine.

I smile at the payphone. Apparently I was locked up for so long these things must have made a comeback. Either that or time dragged so slow in this awful place that I actually travelled back in time.

I toss a quarter into the payphone’s coin slot and dial John. Thankfully he picks up. “Hello?"

My name doesn't pop up on his phone because a payphone is Jurassic technology, so I clue him in that his boyfriend is sprung. "It's me beautiful."

John yells into the phone. "Dave?! Are you ok? Does this mean you’re out of jail?”

I laugh. “I’m a free man. If I had to stay in there any longer I was going to request a conjugal visit from you sweet cheeks.”

John gives me a nervous laugh. “We’re on our way to pick you up. The phone’s on speaker.”

I laugh. “It’s all good. Bro knows that I’m banging your brains out on a nightly basis.”

A familiar voice laughs on the other end. “Nope. Didn’t know that. You never called me bro before.”

Bill? Bill from work? For the love of –.

Bill’s annoying voice pierces through the phone. “I'm totally cool with the gay thing. We have this bet going at work about which way you swing. My money is on you liking guys. Amy has $20 on you being straight but having some mail order bride locked away in your basement. Most of the others think you screw around with various blow-up dolls that you keep in a storage shed or that you just binge watch online porn.”

I sigh. “Do I have sex in the storage shed or do I take the dolls back home to do it?”

Bill laughs uncomfortably and my mission here is done.

He changes the subject. “So John had a mild panic attack. My wife is a nurse so she looked after him last night. Your John was in good hands.”

Not really looking forward to owing Bill a favor, but that right there deserves more than a thank you. He’ll probably burn the favor on something lame like ditching work for the day and asking me to cover for him.

A mechanical woman’s voice cuts in. “Please deposit ten cents.”

I only have enough coins left to buy my vending machine breakfast so I give John a quick ‘see you soon Babe’ and hang up.

I shake the few coins I have left in my hand as I look at my options. Sadly I only have enough for a bag of Yummy Gummy Carey Bearies. I never thought I’d pay a buck fifty to suck on a Care Bear, but I guess jail changes a guy.

I glance at the sodas, knowing that I don’t have enough to get one, but a steady pulsing in my bladder clues me in on why downing a bottle of liquid might not be the wise choice.

I had opted against using the ‘on full display’ toilet in my cell last night and all the bathrooms out here say ‘for visitors only’. I think that visitor doesn’t apply to me because I didn’t come to visit anyone, I came to stay the night. I could be wrong, but why risk getting arrested again just for taking a piss?

I chew on the surprisingly good candy and wait outside for my ride.

It doesn’t take long for Bill to arrive and even though he clearly sees me when he pulls up, he honks the horn.

Really Bill? Why do you have to be _that_ guy?

I walk over to the car that looks like it’s worth at least six figures. Before I can hop in the back, John comes charging at me and hops into my arms.

He’s wearing my shades over his glasses and ugh, John, why do you do this to me? I lean him against the car and ram my tongue down his throat. It feels so good I could do him right here in the parking lot.

Unfortunately John has more self-control (or common sense. whatever you want to call it) than I do, so he pulls away from the kiss. He slowly places the shades on me, and I feel like myself again. I felt really naked without the shades, but ironically, getting naked is something I want to do more than anything right now.

I kiss him more passionately now and he miraculously pulls away again.

He licks his lips and smiles. “You taste like cherry.”

I smirk. “Yup. I had to eat some candy to get the taste of my cellmate out of my mouth.”

Bill’s voice joins the conversation. “Dave, that’s horrible!”

John smiles as I keep my arms around his waist. Apparently he got the joke, but I sigh as I explain it to Bill. “It’s a joke Bill. I was in a holding cell by myself. It’s not like I went to actual prison.”

I try to slide in the back seat next to John, but Bill has other plans. “Dave, come sit up front with me. I want to show you how tripped out my baby is.”

I really want to sit with John in the back and make sure he’s ok after last night’s panic attack thing, but John smiles at me. It’s almost as if he knows my thoughts when he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m ok. We’ll talk later Babe.”

Great. Shotgun with Bill.

I sit down in the passenger seat and my bladder starts to make itself known again. For a second, I’m reminded of all those times that I didn’t want to use the bathrooms in school. Bro would pick me up after school in his broke down Jeep and I’d be so dying to pee.

Just thinking about those memories makes my bladder pound. I squeeze my thighs together now in the same way that I did back then and hope for the best. I won’t hold it till I’m practically in tears like I did back then, but it’s kind of embarrassing to admit to Bill, of all people, that I’m about to pee my pants. I’ll wait as long as I can to ask that question.

Bill starts listing the features of his car like he’s a salesman and I’m on a test drive. I want to tune him out so bad, but focusing on heated cup holders is better than focusing on my overwhelming need to pee.

I don’t want to jam my hands between my legs in front of Bill, but I’m running out of creative ways to hold it in. I grip the sides of the seat and try my best not to squirm too much, but the freakin’ leather seat makes an obvious sound whenever I move an inch.

I look in the rearview mirror, hoping my backseat Honey bunny might be able to bail me out, but John’s passed out cold.

A really bad urge hits and I can’t help but lean forward and moan.

Bill’s on it right away. “What’s up bro?”

I’m so glad I paved the way for that to be a thing.

My hands are full-on between my legs so there’s only two real ways to spin this. I’m not really in the mood to make a jerking off joke that Bill won’t even get anyway, so I go with honesty. It really is the best policy. “I gotta take a piss real bad.”

Bill laughs. “My car has all the features you can imagine, but an onboard bathroom isn’t one of them.”

I squeeze my legs tighter around my hands because even the word bathroom brings on punishing waves of desperation.

Bill’s voice sounds a bit more concerned. “I was planning on taking you and John to my place. I can grill up some burgers and we can celebrate your release.”

Ugh. Please don’t say release!

He continues to talk, not even paying attention to my agony. “You can meet my wife and kids. I told the little ones that John needed a little privacy last night, but when we all ate breakfast this morning we had a super time.”

I’m all for super times at Bill’s house as long as he has a working toilet.

I let go of my crotch when the pounding pressure subsides for a minute. My voice sounds out of breath and that’s only completely humiliating. “How far away is your house? I’m really desperate here.”

I can feel the car accelerate as Bill presses down harder on the gas. “I’ll get you there in five minutes.”

I’m not sure if it’s the subject matter of the conversation or the increase in speed, but John starts to make awake noises in the backseat.

His eyes slowly blink open and meet mine in the rearview mirror. He yawns. “Are we still in the car?”

I really want to tease John for that sentence, but I’ve got the bladder thing going on, so I have to concentrate on that.

Bill smiles. “I’m sure you felt like you were sleeping in a real bed, John. That’s because there’s memory foam built right into the seats. It’s one of the features that - .”

I moan as a really bad urge forces me to double over. I almost slam my head into the glove compartment when I lean all the way forward.

My moan turns into a strained grunt. “Quick. Pull over.”

Bill puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure that you can’t hold it until we get to the house?”

I shake my head along with my legs, which are now trembling. “Bill, let me put it this way. I’m about two seconds away from giving your memory foam seats a bath that you never would have asked for.”

Bill flicks on his blinker and merges sharply to the shoulder lane. A loud car horn makes me think that he cut someone off to do it, but right now the only thing I’m worried about cutting off, is this overwhelming urge to go.

When the car stops, I bolt out of it and run for cover in the nearby trees. Normally I would just whip it out and not care if random cars on the highway saw the whole show, but I’m not about to risk getting locked up for public urination, indecency, or whatever it’s called, so I head for the trees to start my undercover piss.

When I can’t see the highway from behind me, it’s safe to say I’ve gone far enough to preserve public decency.

I’m hit with the worst urge yet and I double over in desperation. I press my thighs together and squeeze myself hard enough to make my eyes water. I close my eyes tight and groan because I have to go so bad it hurts.

I’m about to give in and pee myself right here, but I feel someone tug on my jeans. I’m quite familiar with the feel of John’s hands, so I don’t even need to open my eyes to know that it’s him.

I’m not sure how he does it, but he navigates around the death grip I have on my junk and works the zipper down. He puts his hands over mine and yanks down, pulling the boxers and jeans down all in one go.

The pee instantly shoots out of me. My eyes are closed so I’m not sure if John gets out of the way in time. It would be beyond tragic if I peed my pants, but it was John’s jeans that got soaked with pee instead of mine.

I can’t survey the damage yet because this piss right here is an eyes closed, head back kinda of situation. I’m hoping that Bill isn’t here too because the guttural sounds I’m making are sounds for John’s ears only.

I feel John’s hands on my hips, holding me from behind. When he starts to kiss my neck I’m sure that we’re the only ones here.

I moan out a response. “Can’t a guy piss in peace?”

I feel John smile against my neck. “Not my guy.”

If I wasn’t having one of the most satisfying urinations of my entire life, I would have called John out on that being the corniest thing he’s ever said.

I reach around behind me and snake my arm around John’s waist. The feeling of holding onto him as I let go is indescribable.

I open my eyes and see the pee pouring out of me. With my eyes closed I had felt how strongly I was going, but seeing it is intense. It looks stronger than it had felt and that’s saying a lot, because it felt like – ugh, I never want this to end.

The endless waterfall continues to run out of me and shows no sign of stopping. Eventually John laughs. “Dave, you gotta be setting some kind of record by now.”

I hum an “mmm hmm” and keep going.

John rests his head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry I freaked out in the movie theater and got you arrested.”

I smirk. “Not your fault J. Besides, the local police got a few selfies of me and took some fingerprints. Nothing I can’t handle. I erase Bro’s police record every time he gets locked up. I’ll be out of the system as soon as I get internet access.”

John kisses my ear. “You have to stop peeing before you can do that. You want to stop now and save the rest for later?”

Oh trust me Babe, I’m going to save this and replay it more times than you can imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story continues! It's been a while since I wrote desperate John and Dave so I hope I haven't completely gone off in the wrong direction. If you like it, I'm glad, thanks. If you don't, let me know, I'm always willing to edit :D


	25. Just a Regular Night at the Office

**John POV**

I look to my right and sitting there is Dave. He seems to always be there for me; metaphorically and literally. We’re still at Bill’s house, sitting on his porch swing, waiting for Bro to pick us up, but we honestly could be anywhere. Being with him makes the world around me melt away. It’s like we’re the only two people on earth.

Dave brings this poignant moment to an end by burping really loudly. He follows it by taking a long exhale, almost like that was too much effort for him.

He turns to me and puts his hand on his stomach. “I’m way over the legal limit of cheeseburgers. It’s a good thing Bro’s driving us back.”

I put a hand on his thigh. “Just because Bill had you help with the grill didn’t mean you had to eat ten of them.”

Dave smirked. “What can I say? They tasted good. I’m just awesome when it comes to setting stuff on fire.”

Bill had been nice enough to let Dave and I stay for dinner, but we didn’t take the invitation to sleep over. The main reason for this is that Dave and I need to get home to take a shower and change clothes. I’m still wearing Bill’s borrowed polo shirt and khaki shorts and I think it’s making Dave love me a little less by the second.

Dave’s in even more need of a quick change. He's wearing his prison clothes and he claimed that if he wears them any longer that “the smell coming off these things is going to go from a petty misdemeanor to a straight up felony.”

I lean against his shoulder and take a quick sniff. Nope, still smells like Heaven to me.

Dave puts his arm around me, drawing me in closer. “Dude, did you just smell me?”

I hope he doesn’t see me blushing. It’s dark out here so I might have gotten away with it. “No. That would be weird.”

His next sentence surprises me. “You gotta take a leak?”

I actually do have to go pretty badly, but Bill had put the kids to sleep and locked up for the night. I can’t just ring the doorbell and wake everyone up so I can take a piss. That would be beyond mortifying. And this is coming from a guy who peed himself in the movie theater just yesterday.

I shiver at the memory.

Dave puts a hand on my thigh. “You gotta drain the tank?”

I bounce the knee that he has his hand on. I used to be able to play this off better. “Seriously Dave. Do you have some kind of radar that knows when I have to pee at all times?”

Dave smirks. “I would pay good money for that kind of technology.”

I bounce my knee a little faster. “Yeah right. You and I both know that you’d just steal it.”

Dave shakes his head. “Nah, I’m a man with a record now. I gotta lay low.”

I stand up from the porch swing and put my hands in my pockets. I’m not bursting, but talking about this has definitely increased the need.

Dave nudges his head toward the garden. “You can pee over there. Those roses don’t look like they’ve been watered in a while.”

I roll my eyes and bounce in place, trying to calm my bladder. “Yeah, I’m just going to piss on Bill’s wife’s prize roses. There’s nothing wrong at all with that plan.”

Dave's mouth angles into a smile. “So another desperate car ride. Is that what I have to look forward to?”

I shift my weight from foot to foot. “I’m not desperate, I just have to go.”

Dave raises an eyebrow. “You have to go or you have to... GO?”

The emphasis he puts on the second 'go' makes my bladder twitch. Crotch holding silences the twitch.

I really hope that Dave can’t see this in the darkness but the blinding light from a pair of headlights illuminates my embarrassing stance. Dave shields his eyes and mumbles. “Thanks Bro.”

We walk over to the car and I already feel my bladder calming down. The drive to Dave’s house is about ten minutes away. I can totally hold it that long.

The front passenger seat is filled with random crap so Dave and I slide into the back seat.

As Bro pulls out of the driveway, Dave pulls a hamburger out of his pocket and tosses it to the front seat. “I saved this for you. Thanks for picking us up.”

Bro starts to eat the gift. “You didn’t come home last night. I was gonna call, but then I, like, didn’t feel like it.”

Dave yells over the seat. “I haven’t been home since yesterday afternoon you troll! You could have called!”

Bro nods. “I’m sensing you’re upset.”

I want to jump in the conversation, but this is more awkward than when I was a kid and my parents fought.

Dave opens up his phone and scrolls through emails, but continues to yell at his brother. “You bet your stash of grass I’m upset. I got locked up last night.”

Bro whistles. “Whoa, that sucks. What’d they arrest you for?”

Dave sighs. “John peed his pants and I kinda assaulted a cop.”

Bro laughs. “Kinky pee times went south?”

Dave is distracted by something on his phone and doesn’t answer. I have no problem staying the third wheel silent observer, but I can’t let that question float around unanswered.

I cross my legs, preparing for the uneasy shiver that talking about yesterday will send through my body. “I had um, an emergency at the movie theater and Dave helped me.”

Bro looks at me from the rearview mirror. I can tell he wants to ask follow-up questions because my explanation didn’t really explain anything, but he just looks back at the road and smirks. “Yeah, Dave’s cool.”

Dave groans as he looks at his phone. “This isn’t good. This is bad. This is really bad.” He looks up. “I need to get to my computer at work. If I don’t fix this thing right now, I’m going to be so screwed.”

Bro nods. “I’ll swing by there. Isn’t it closed though?”

Dave stuffs his phone back in his pocket. “I can get in. Just pull up around the back.”

The fact that Dave didn’t smirk at his own choice of words about ‘getting in’ and ‘pulling up around back’ made me realize just how serious he was.

We pull up to the back and Bro yawns. “Take your time. I’m just going to take a nap in here.”

Dave mumbles something about Bro acting like a homeless man, before we climb out of the car.

Breaking and entering takes my mind off of my bladder and I watch Dave punch a few numbers into the keypad. The door clicks open and Dave works on the passcode for the keypad on the inside.

The building is pretty dark, but the dim emergency lights are on. I’m pretty sure there’s a security guard in the front of the building and maybe another one that patrols.

Dave gives a quiet cheer. “Got it. Alarm’s off. Let’s do this before anyone catches us.”

Dave takes me by the wrist and drags me to the stairs.

My bladder starts to pound again. I pull away from him right as we reach the door for the stairs. I shift my weight. “Can we use the elevator?”

Dave shakes his head. “Can’t risk it.”

I reluctantly climb the stairs as the level of desperation in my bladder climbs along with me.

We reach Dave’s office and he pushes the door open. We race over to his computer. As the startup song plays, he fishes around in a drawer. He pulls out a red flash drive and jams it in the driver slot. I jam my hands between my legs.

I scan the room, but I’ve been in Dave’s office before. I already know that he doesn’t have a private bathroom. I want to run down the hall to the Men’s room, but I know that I can’t. Dave and I have to stick together in case someone shows up so we can make a run for it.

Dave glances over at me. The blue light from the computer causes a freaky backlighting situation and Dave’s grin looks borderline evil.

I squeeze my thighs around my hands. “I have to go.”

Dave nods. “Does it hurt?”

I whine. “No, but breaking the law really kicked up the need, you know?”

Dave looks away from me for a second to press a few keys. One of those downloading bars pops up on the screen. I moan as it says 1% done and the bar has just a tiny sliver of green in the corner.

Dave smirks at me. “We have a little time. Why don’t you tell me how badly you have to go in great detail.”

I moan. “You’re such a jerk.”

I glance over at the screen and thankfully the bar has jumped up to about about half green now and it says 50%.

I keep my hands between my legs and rock from side to side. “Can you distract me?”

Dave nods. “You want to talk about your freak out yesterday?”

I’m not really prepared for this conversation.

I sighed. “Wow. We’re going there? You couldn’t have eased into this conversation a little gentler?”

Dave wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I don’t ease into anything buddy.”

I wince. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

Dave gives me an extremely concerned look, so I steer the conversation back on track. “I’m just kidding. You’re an amazing lover.”

Dave gives me a toothy grin and I can’t help but smile back.

His demeanor changes quickly. “I think it might be a good idea to talk to someone about, you know, the thing. Maybe I can come with you if you want.”

I cross my legs. “Like a therapist?”

Dave nods. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Lots of people go to shrinks.”

I cross my legs a little tighter. “I don’t think you can call them shrinks anymore. I don’t think it’s politically correct.”

A ding from the computer ends the conservation. Dave pulls out the flash drive and puts it in his pocket. “Let’s roll.”

The Men’s Room is all the way at the end of the hall, but about halfway down the hall a security guard walks past. He doesn’t see us, but Dave grabs my arm and whispers. “The floor manager’s office is right here. He’s got a bathroom and a shower up in there.”

We duck into the office and close the door.

I whisper. “Do you think he saw us?”

The security guard’s voice sounds distant, but I can tell he’s getting closer. “Mr. Saunders? Are you in your office?”

Dave winces. “He must have heard the door close.”

It's impossible to see that it's me and Dave in the office, but the door has two frosted windows on either side. The security guard would definitely be able to see movement inside.

Dave and I stand with our backs to the door. I bounce against it whimpering softly. “I have to pee. I have to pee. I have to pee.”

Dave puts his hand between my legs, over mine, to help me hold it. He whispers. “I have a plan. Moan louder.”

I don’t have to be told twice. I give into the feeling of a full bladder and moan loudly, trying to release the pressure as a moan instead of a jet stream. A blush fills my face because it sounds far more pornographic than I had thought it would, but then I realize Dave’s plan.

The security guard won’t try to come in if Mr. Saunders is banging a secretary.

I close my eyes and let out a louder, “Ugh”, and I feel Dave’s hand shaking over mine. I open my eyes and Dave mouths the words “So hot.”

I guess this security guard is more of a voyeur than Dave and I give him credit for because the sound of a key card being swiped and the door knob being jiggled follows.

Dave and I are leaning against the door, so it doesn’t open more than a crack against our weight.

Dave whispers. “New plan.”

He clears his throat and makes his voice as deep as possible. “Oh yeah. Put it right there. Manage me like that again Saunders.”

The security guard stops pushing against the door and mumbles something close to an ‘I’m sorry’.

When the coast is clear Dave laughs. “I guess Mr. Night Watchman didn’t want to watch two dudes get it on.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Put it right there? Really Dave? I said before that you were an amazing lover. Don’t make me have to take that back.”

Dave’s face turns a rare shade of red. “Shut up. Go and pee before you wet your pants.”

I grab myself with one hand and Dave’s wrist with my other hand, and sprint to the bathroom. “Come watch me.”

Dave wraps his arms around my waist from behind as I stand in front of the toilet. He leans his chin on my shoulder. “We might not want to mention this activity to the shrink.”

I put one hand on his head and the other hand is at my side in a fist. My legs are trembling at this point, but I know he likes to unzip me so I wait for him do it.

He fiddles with the zipper and I grunt. “Dude, hurry up!”

Dave laughs against my ear and works me out of my jeans and boxers double time.

I take care of the aiming and Dave puts his hands over my bladder and gives a firm squeeze. I’m not quite in position yet, so I struggle to hold it a little longer. Dave and I had pissed all over Mr. Saunders reputation. The least I could do was not piss all over his floor.

Somehow I hold it in despite Dave literally pushing my bladder to the edge.

When I finally have my full bladder in the correct place and angle to deposit the fullness, I let loose. When I say let loose, I really mean it. My body goes from a ball of tension to a pool of relaxation.

As the pee shots out of me, I feel boneless. I feel myself slipping from Dave’s grip, but he holds me around the waist tighter. This tighter grip encourages my bladder to increase the amount of pee jetting out of me.

I tense up, bonelessness fading away, as the stream coming out of me isn’t fast enough to cause any immediate relief.

I squeeze my eyes shut and I feel my whole body shaking. “D-Dave. I have to go so bad. I held it too long.”

Dave whispers against my ear. “Shh. It’s ok. I’m here. I got you.”

Dave continues to coach me through the unpleasant initial pee after holding it for far too long, and soon the unpleasantness pours out and the feeling of euphoria hits me. The liquid continues to splash into the bowl at an unbelievable speed. I’ve downloaded about 50% of my bladder into the toilet and I debate holding the rest, because I know that Bro is out there waiting for us.

I try to stop, but that’s an impossibility, so I continue to go with the flow.

Dave mumbles against my ear. “I could do this for the rest of my life.”

I smile wearily. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

Dave mumbles. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Oh my God!

I turn my head to see Dave’s eyes glaze over and I lose him to a fog of his own pleasure, but the statement still stands. I think Dave just proposed to me.

I think Dave Strider just proposed to me in a Men’s Room!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot to cram in this chapter so hopefully it had a good pee to plot ratio :D As always, thanks for reading!


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